And the Sun Comes up
by Lisa Smithers
Summary: Dean and Sam are left to Sonny's care after John refuses to come and get them when Dean is arrested for theft. Transitioning from a life of hunting to the life of a normal 10 year old and 14 year old is quite a challenge. For the first time, Sam and Dean learn what it means to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

The two boys shifted beneath Sonny's observing gaze, the younger of the two moving towards the older as the cop spoke angrily. The older boy only moved to accommodate the younger, his eyes steadily meeting the cop's furious ones. And then he smirked. Just the slightest little smile seemed to set the cop off even more, causing voices to be raised.

"It was a sucker punch!" The cop said.

"You wish." Was the boy's response.

The dialogue continued, the cop growing steadily more agitated.

"That's enough, I can handle this. Thanks for dropping him by." Sonny said. The cop gave a curt nod then left the house, slamming the door.

Sonny sighed, "You shouldn't have done that, you know?"

"Why, because he's a cop?"

"No, because you got him so riled, he left with the keys." Sonny nodded towards the boy's handcuffs.

The boys just smirked again, biting his lip as he looked down to the cuffs. He rolled his eyes.

"But don't you worry about that." Sonny said, as picked up a paper clip attached to one of the files and straightened it out. Sonny noticed both boys, but especially the elder, stiffening as he neared them. Slowly, as not to alarm them, Sonny gently pulled the boy's cuffed wrists towards him. He quickly picked the lock, noting the boy's look of cautious interest.

Sonny's brows squinted slightly as he spotted the bruises that ran up and down the boy's arms.

"The deputy do that to you?" He asked.

The boy shook his head, smiling almost bitterly.

"What, your old man?" Sonny frowned.

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"Werewolf."

"Hm." Sonny gave the final twist of the paper clip and the cuffs snapped open. He wondered what would compel the boy to tell such an outrageous lie. _Trying to protect his pop, I'll bet._

"So, you two got names?" Sensing the boys' hesitation, he continued. "Considering what your daddy said, you'll probably be here for a while. You might as well tell me."

"Dean." The older answered, he gestured to the younger with a tip of his head, "And that's Sam."

"You're brothers?" Sonny asked.

Dean nodded.

"I figured." Sonny said. Sonny stood up moving towards the kitchen, and heard another's steps in his wake. He turned to see Dean standing behind him.

"How do you know we won't just run away?"

"How do I know?" I repeated. "Well, you're hungry"

"Now I'm not." Dean said.

I sighed.

"Dean, you stole bread and peanut butter." Sonny said.

"He was gonna steal jelly too, but that's when-" Sam's lower lip stuck out, taking on a slightly pouty look.

"Sammy-"

Sam immediately stopped speaking and pressed his lips together.

"How do you know I didn't steal just for the fun of it?"

"Because little Sammy here hasn't stopped staring at the bread sitting on that table since you got here."

"Sam." Sam said, "My name is Sam. I'm hungry."

"Sam, then." Sonny looked pointedly at Dean, who had by now given his brother a subtle glare.

"I am!" Sam said in response.

"That doesn't mean you have to go around telling everybody."

Sam stuck his tongue out at Dean.

Sonny watched as the brothers communicated without words. Dean was obviously reprimanding Sam, but he unable to stay angry at him for long.

"Well, if you don't want to eat just yet, I suppose it'd be a good time to show you around the farm." Sonny said.

Silently, Dean followed Sonny and listened to Sam speak animatedly as they went about the farm. He seemed very cautious, Sonny noticed, overly so, as though he expected the ground to fall from beneath him with every step.

Sonny knelt to Sam's level. "You see that rooster over there?"

Sam nodded anxiously.

"If he ever comes near you or tries to jump up on you, you just give him a hard kick, you hear?"

Sam nodded then looked to Dean, "Chickens don't like me very well."

For the first time since they arrived, Sonny saw a smile creep onto Dean's face. Only one the sun came out did Sonny notice the dark. The boy was tired. Both of them were, but especially Dean. His young face was drawn out with stress already, marred with the exhaustion of a soldier in combat.

Sonny recognized the result of hard times when he saw it. He had had enough of them himself.

A few more stops were made on the way back to the house, the hog lot, the sheep pen, and dog house were all thoroughly examined by Sam.

Sonny had to smile at the extent of Sam's curiosity. The kid was a smart cookie and well spoken considering his age, or at least what Sonny guessed his age to be.

A loud growl of Sam's stomach was conviently timed at the end of their tour.

"Sounds like the supper bell to me." Sonny said. "How 'bout we head back to the house and get you two fixed up with some grub, sound good?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically, while Dean was a little more hesitant.

* * *

After a few bites while staring dead at Sonny, Dean's hesitance was drained away. He hadn't eaten in long enough that the feeling of hunger had faded, replaced only by a sense of emptiness. But now, after the first bite of that juicy steak and home grown green beans, the hunger came back in sharp pangs, feeling as though it was ripping his stomach to shreads.

* * *

Sonny watched as both boys tore through the food.

 _Not tearing through it, inhaling it._

A sadness came over him as Sonny realized that these boys were acting as though they hadn't eaten in days. They attacked the mashed potatoes, almost as though they were afraid they'd be taken away from them.

Sonny took the time to observe the boys, noting their worn clothing. The officer hadn't brought in any bags, which meant that all they had were the clothes on their backs. Both were quite thin, yet still strong, their young body's well muscled even at this age.

"How old are you two?" Sonny asked.

"He's 10, I'm 14."

Apparently Dean was more talkative with his stomach full.

While Dean was about average height for his age, but Sam was a little shorter than usual. Yet somehow, Sonny knew that it wasn't a forever sort of short. It was the temporary type of short that would blow up in your face the next time you blinked. It wouldn't be long before Sammy shot up like a tree.

"Alright, now that you've got food in ya, it's on to a bit less pleasant business." Sonny said.

Dean and Sam both looked at him expectantly.

"Jobs." Sonny said. "Every boy on the farm has to do some."

Dean exhaled, and blinked, closing his eyes just longer than normal.

"What do we have do?" He said.

"Well, Dean, you've seen the farm, what do you want to do?" Sonny said.

"Wait- What?" Dean said.

"We get to choose?" Sam said in awe.

"Well, yeah, of course." Sonny said. "I might just give Dean some sometimes, I make all the older boy's haul hay, for example, but other than that, it's your choice."

"Hauling hay?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah, it's simple. Pick up the bale, stack it on the truck. You'll pick it up quick." Sonny said, reaching up to slap the kid's shoulder.

His hand's momentum halted immediately when he saw Dean flinch away from it quite violently, shutting his eyes.

Sonny's heart dropped. This wasn't his first round handling boys that had been victims of abuse at home, but it still broke his heart every time. Knowing now was to early to discuss matters such as those, Sonny didn't mention it.

"Well, that can be dealt with a bit later." Sonny said. "Why don't you both get settled in? You two share the 3rd room on the right, bathroom is at the end of the hall. There's a bucket in the cabinet beneath the sink. Grab a tooth brush, write your name on it with the sharpy marker and stick it in the holder."

* * *

Sam's eyes gleamed with amazement as he stared up at the enormous book shelf that was stuffed to the point of having books stacked horizontally over the rows of vertical ones. Dean's attention was caught by the two twin beds that sat side by side in the room. _I'll be right next to Sammy. Good._ Dean thought.

After glancing at the door to make sure Sonny wasn't watching, Dean slipped a pen knife out of his pocket and carved warding symbols into both his and his brother's bed in as discrete of locations as he could manage.

* * *

Sonny quietly walked up the stairs and stood quietly around the corner listening to the boys' conversation.

"How long do we get to stay here, Dean?" Sam asked, "When is Dad coming?"

A near silent gasp escaped his lips. Dean hadn't told Sam. Hadn't told him that they were here indefinitely, that until their pop cooled down and decided to get them, they would stay.

 _Man, I almost slipped up pretty bad._

"Dad's busy, he's working." Dean said, "He'll get us when he's finished with the job."

"But I don't want to leave, Dean." Sam said, "Sonny is nice. I like him. I want to stay."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Dean sighed, "But don't get too comfortable. Sonny seems nice now, but... things could still change."

"He sorta reminds me of Uncle Bobby." Sam decided.

"Hm..." Dean distractedly ran his eyes around the room. "Let's just hope he stays that way."

"Why didn't you tell the cop we could call Bobby?"

"You remember what happened the last time we were at Bobby's?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

"That's why." Dean said.

"Oh." Sam's eyebrows twisted in confusion, "But-"

"We're not calling him, Sam." Dean repeated, "Don't make me say it again."

Sam by this time had lost interest in the conversation, choosing instead to stare up at the enormous bookshelf.

"We have books, Dean."

" _We_ don't have books. Mr. Sonny has books." Dean said. "We're guests."

Sam's next statement made Sonny smile.

"Hm... But can I pretend they're mine, Dean?" Sam pleaded.

"I suppose that wouldn't hurt." Dean sighed, "So long as you're very careful with them."

Sonny could practically hear Sam's grin.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, this is my first attempt at a Supernatural**_ ** _fan fiction, I hope you guys enjoyed it. I'd love to see some reviews telling me what I can improve!_**


	2. Chapter 2

"You can sit down, you know?" Sonny said, looking up at Dean from his book. "In fact, I'd prefer you did, because it's getting kinda creepy with you just standing there staring at me."

Dean sat down on the couch across from Sonny, one leg coiled beneath himself, his stare unwavering. Eventually however, he flinched when he heard a small crash upstairs, shortly followed by a bigger one.

Sonny blinked. In less than a second's time, Dean was already half way up the stairs.

Sighing, Sonny followed.

* * *

"Sammy?" Dean said, running into the room, which was now a mess. The book shelf was now laying on its face on the floor, books spilling out of it. Dean's blood ran cold and hot at the same time. Blue with fear, and red with anger.

"Help, Dean." Sam's muffled voice arose from beneath the shelf.

"Seriously, Sammy?!"

* * *

Sonny walked in to see Dean attempting to lift the solid oak bookshelf as his younger brother slithered out from beneath it.

"I leave you alone for two minutes, Sammy, two minutes, and you've managed to have a book shelf fall on top of you."

"I was just trying to get a book on the top shelf." Sam said, "I didn't know it would fall."

Suddenly, the book shelf got enormously lighter, and Sam was able to wiggle out completely.

Dean looked around in confusion, only to see Sonny standing in the upper corner, helping hold the shelf up.

As soon as Sam was out, both boys stood up straight in front of Sonny.

"I'm sorry, sir, it was my fault, sir. " Dean said immediately.

"How do you figure?" Sonny asked.

"I should have been up here to help him get the book." Dean said. Once again, he blinked for just a moment too long. "I will comply with any punishment you deem necessary immediately, and without complaint."

Sonny stopped, speechless at Dean's apparently practiced behavior. He's memorized t _hat response, it's been beaten into him... Maybe even literally._ Sonny looked over at Sam who looked guilty and sort of embarrassed, but showed no signs that this was anything but normal. Dean's head slowly sunk down as the silence went on, and Sonny realized that Dean must think that he was debating the punishment.

"It was just an accident, boys, there's no reason for me to punish you for that." Sonny said. "I can't see a reason why Sam would knock a book shelf on top himself on purpose."

Dean kept eye contact, but Sonny could tell that was the last thing he wanted to do. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable "but...".

It never came.

"So, how about you both just help me clean up this mess, then we can get back to it?" Sonny said, "Dean, help me prop this shelf back up."

Immediately, Dean moved to lift the shelf, and Sonny quickly came to realize that the boy was stronger than he looked.

Once the shelf was up, Dean and Sam just looked up at Sonny, almost as though waiting for orders.

"Alright, start putting the books back on the shelf."

Sam and Dean got to work. After a moment, Sonny just took a step back and watched their process. They seemed to have a method, and it worked quite well.

Sam stacked the books, Dean put them on the bookshelf. Sonny noticed that Sam seemed to be glancing at the books before putting them in the pile, and he didn't always place them on the top. Running his eyes over the books, Sonny realized that Sam was alphabetizing them, just as they had been before the shelf fell.

Sonny wasn't much for organization, but one of the boys who had had this room previously had been. _A strange boy he was,_ Sonny reflected, then looked down to Sam and Dean. _But not as strange as these, I don't think._

The books were back on the shelf in no time, and both boys stood straight, staring at Sonny once again.

"Uh..." Sonny blinked, unused to the instantaneous obedience. "Why don't you two go freshen up, maybe take a shower? The other boys will be in from their chores in a bit, you can meet 'em at supper."

Sam and Dean walked off towards the bathroom, and Sonny heard the water running soon after the door was shut.

 _What are these boys doing here? They're anybody's dream kid. Obedient, respectful, except to cops apparently, smart..._

* * *

No longer than ten minutes later, both boys stood in front of him, clean, with still dripping wet hair. It was a sharp contrast to the greasy hair and dusty skin they had sported earlier. They had re-dressed themselves in same clothes they had came in and Sonny made a mental note to get them some new clothes soon.

Only now that they were clean was Sonny able to get a good look at them.

Dean's arms were thicker, stronger, and riddled with cuts and bruises, while Sam's were thinner and more delicate looking, his skin clear of the bruising that clouded his brother's. Both boys, Sonny noticed, had scars on the top of their lower arm, as well as as scar that slit their hand. Both scars were deep, permanent, most likely. Sonny couldn't imagine what they must be from.

It was the last observation that struck Sonny to the core.

They were exhausted.

It was a soul deep weariness that didn't just go away with sleep. No, that type of exhaustion only went away with safety, consistency, love, and time. Things these boys had likely never had in their lives.

They stood there, staring at Sonny expectantly, once again waiting for orders.

"Relax, explore, do whatever you want. Supper will be ready in 'bout half an hour." Sonny said.

Both boys looked at each other, then back to Sonny. The two boys turned to face each other and Sonny listened to them as he pulled out the ingredients for supper.

"You've got your watch?" Dean asked.

"'Course, Dean," Sam said, "I'm not a baby."

"Good." Dean said, "Meet me here in 25 minutes. Don't do anything stupid."

There was a bit more of a conversation that Sonny couldn't make out, but he heard feet walking away. He turned back to his work, cracking eggs into a bowl, then dumping some flour, salt, and corn meal in. Turning around, Sonny set the bowl on the counter and began to stir. He looked up for a moment hearing a yell outside, and jumped at the sight of the eldest Winchester brother in front of him, sitting there in a tall chair on the breakfast bar. Dean didn't even try to hide his stare.

"If you're gonna sit there and stare at me you could at least help." Sonny said, "Stir those beans for me, kiddo." Sonny said.

Dean stood, walked to the stove, and stirred the beans.

"So, Dean, tell me about yourself." Sonny said.

"What is there to say?" Dean asked, after a moment.

"I don' t know, surely you got some hobbies?" Sonny prompted.

Dean thought a moment, then shrugged. "Hunting, I guess." he said.

"What else?"

"I like cars."

"What's your favorite?"

"My dad's got a '67 Chevy Impala." Dean said.

"That's a pretty neat car."

Dean just nodded.

"What about Sam? What does he like?"

"Books, science stuff." Dean said, a fond smile sliding onto his face, "He's a nerd that way."

"Nothing wrong with liking to learn." Sonny said, "He seems like a smart little cookie."

"He's brilliant," Dean said, his face fell, and he shook his head, his eyes flickering to Sonny, "he doesn't deserve all this."

It was silent for a bit, broken only by the occasional sound of Sonny's spoon clinking against the bowl, or Dean's spoon scraping the bottom of the pot.

"Where do you boys live?" Sonny asked.

Dean shifted, not answering for a moment.

"Everywhere, sort of." Dean said.

"What do you mean?"

"Dad travels a lot for work." Dean said, "We sort of just get pulled along for the ride."

"Yeah, I get that. Where's your base though? Where's your house?"

"Don't have one."

"Hm." Sonny said. "What's your dad do?"

There was a moment's hesitance in Dean's response, and Sonny knew to expect a lie.

"He's a handy man, does odd jobs," Dean said, "anything no one else wants to do."

"And your mom?"

"She's gone." Dean said, "Dead."

"Sorry." Sonny said, though he had halfway been expecting it, "How long ago?"

"Sammy doesn't remember her." Dean said.

"Do you?"

Dean bit his lip and glanced away, "Yeah, I do."

There was a pause in conversation, and Sonny hesitated to enquire more, but he was still curious, and Dean was talking. He seemed to slowly be relaxing, and he seemed to be less defensive when Sam was around.

"How'd she die?"

Dean froze. Sonny knew he'd made a mistake, pressed too hard for the time being. Dean needed to do this in his own time.

"You know what? That's a story for another day, don't you think?" Sonny said, "I'll go call the boys in, why don't you go search for Sam?"

As if on cue, Sam appeared in the door way.

Dean looked back at Sonny.

"Alright... Um..." Sonny said, "Stay here for a bit, I guess. I'll go round 'em up."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Alright, yet another chapter flopped on out of my fingers, so I hope you guys like it. Please review, I'd love to know how you think I did. If there's any inconsistency in their ages in this or any following chapters, it's because I'm still trying to come up with a set age. The range I'm considering is Sam: 8-10 and Dean:12-14**_


	3. Chapter 3

Sonny watched as his boys trailed on in behind him, their interest peaked by the newcomers. Sam gazed at them with mild curiosity, but not much interest beyond that, instead more focused on the spread of food on the table before them. Dean was more concerned with the other boys, seemingly giving them all a glare that said " _you mess with Sammy, you won't live to talk about it."_ The other boys responded in turn, each of them sending their own glares back at Dean. Peter, the oldest one, looked over at Sam, smirking.

If Sonny didn't know any better, he'd say Dean bared his teeth.

Sonny sighed at the show of aggression, but he knew that a pecking order had to be worked out among the boys. It would happen eventually, so there was no point in interfering. Sonny just hoped the matter would be settled fairly calmly, and preferably without fist fights. Those had happened before.

Shortly, everyone was seated.

"Dig in, boys." Sonny said, "Eat as much as you want."

Once again, after a few minutes hesitance, Sam and Dean dove into the cornbread, ham, and beans.

The other boys stared, slight disgust showing on their face. It was then Sonny realized that while he had had mistreated and abused boys before, he'd never had starving ones.

It was true. These boys had been nearing starvation. Both were much to lean, Dean was all muscle with no padding, and Sam while not quite as badly malnourished, was still just skin and bones.

There was a reason that Dean had stolen peanut butter.

Once Dean and Sam had calmed down some, their mouths only partially filled, Sonny decided that it was time to get a conversation going.

"So, boys, go around the table and introduce yourselves." Sonny said, "Name, age, and whatever else you kids deem important."

"Peter, 17, captain of the football team." Peter leaned back in his seat. Obviously he was the dominate one among the boys.

"Johnathan, just call me Jay. I'm 15. I like collecting insects." The boy smiled, the first show of humanity among the other boys.

Sam's eyes widened, "Me too..." he whispered, just loud enough that Dean and Sonny could hear it.

Dean smiled at the memory. Sam had been four, maybe five. Dean couldn't remember which.

* * *

 _"Sammy!" Dean said._

 _"Yes, Dee?"_

 _"What are these?" Dean held up an Altoid mint case, opening it and showing Sam the contents._

 _"They're my friends." Sam said, "That's Riley, Ginger, Edgar, Nathan, and Bartholomew." Sam pointed to each of the colorful, squiggling bugs in turn._

 _"Why were they in Dad's car, Sam?"_

 _"Because we can't leave family behind." Sam replied, as though it were the most normal thing in the world._

 _"They're bugs, Sam." Dean said, "They can't be your family."_

 _"Why not?" Sam asked, "Dad said that family doesn't start in blood, and it doesn't end there either. So the bugs can be part of my family."_

 _Dean sighed._

 _"Just don't let Dad find them."_

* * *

Dean missed those times. Lately, well... he didn't want to think about it.

Dean continued eating, more slowly now as he listened to the other boys' introductions.

There were six of them, not counting Sam or Dean. In order by age, they were Peter, Jonathan, Tom, Andrew, Matt, and Jude.

Dean's mind drifted back to when his mom used to sing "Hey Jude" to Sam and himself as they fell asleep. That was so long ago... How many years had passed, ten? Eleven?

Dean was brought out of his thoughts by the sensation of having nine pairs of eyes staring at him.

Dean stole a quick look at Sam, who then mouthed _"say your name"_

"Dean, 14." Dean tilted his head towards Sam. "That's Sam; he's my brother."

"Alright, now that we go that over with, let's discuss chores." Sonny said. "Dean, would you rather help Peter and Jonathan out with hauling hay or help the other boys keep the cattle and the horses?"

Dean hesitated. "I get to choose?"

"Of course, why wouldn't you get to?" Sonny asked.

"No reason." Dean shook his head, seemingly getting out of his thoughts. "Where would I be most useful?"

"We've gotten a little behind with the hay because of that day Peter was sick." Johnathan said. He winced when Peter elbowed him and threw him a glare.

"I'm sure we can make do though," Peter said, "We're not that far behind."

"Yes we a-" Peter elbowed Johnathan again, mouthing _"shut up"._

Dean smirked, "Hauling hay sounds just fine."

"What about me?" Sam asked. "What do I get to do?"

"I want you, Sammy, to follow me around for a few days and help me. It'll give us a chance to figure out what you're good at." Sonny said, "Sound good?"

Sonny glanced up at Dean, somehow knowing that he was more asking for the older boy's permission than the younger's.

Sam immediately agreed, and Dean, after a few seconds, gave a curt nod.

"Alright then." Sonny said, "You boys just hang out, get to know each other until it's time for bed. I've got some paper work to do, I'll be up in my office. Whose turn is it for dishes?"

"It's still Jay's remember?" Jude said, "There's still another day before he's un-grounded."

"That's right..." Sonny said, "Well, hop to it."

Most of the boys left to watch a movie in the living room, leaving Sam, Dean, and Johnathan in the kitchen.

Johnathan hummed while stacking the dishes.

"Explore, be back in here by..." Dean looked at his watch. "9:00."

Sam nodded enthusiastically, turning to leave the room. Dean caught his arm.

"Hey, steer clear of that Peter guy." Dean said, "I don't like the looks of him, he could be trouble."

Sam's eyes widened. "Do you think he could be a-"

Once Dean realized the direction Sam's mind was traveling he put an end to it.

"No, no. I'm pretty sure he's just a jerk." Dean said, "Just a _human_ jerk."

Dean paused a moment. "We're safe here, Sammy, at least for now."

"Good." Sam nodded. Sammy took off towards the living room to watch the movie with the rest of the boys, leaving Dean and Johnathan alone in the room.

* * *

Johnathan jumped a little when Dean suddenly appeared beside him, starting to rise the dishes.

"Thanks." Johnathan said, "It takes forever to do them by myself..."

Dean didn't respond, just kept rinsing.

Unnerved by the silence, Johnathan tried to start a conversation.

"So... aren't you wondering why I'm grounded?"

"Not particularly." Dean said, "I know enough."

"What do you mean?" Johnathan asked.

"I mean, that whatever happened, you didn't do it." Dean said, "Peter did."

"How did you-" Dean cut Johnathan off right there.

"I know what it's like to cover for someone else." Dean said, "Except I don't cover for the people who bully me unless there's a real good reason. So, why'd you take the blame?"

Johnathan was speechless. He struggled over his words for a moment.

"If he had gotten grounded, he would have missed the biggest football competition this year." Johnathan said.

"Yeah, and it'd have been his fault." Dean said, "You can't let people like Peter walk all over you. The longer they've been doing it, the harder it is to stop them."

"Why would you care?"

"Because it's not right for him to treat you that way." Dean said, "You should tell Sonny."

"What makes you think I haven't already?"

"Well, for one, you're still standing here doing dishes for 9 people, and two," Dean said, "from what I've seen so far, Sonny is a good man. He'd never let something like this go on if he knew about it."

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, how'd you like this chapter? Please review and tell me how I can improve!**_


	4. Chapter 4

Dean and Johnathan finished up the dishes before long and went to join the other boys in the living room.

Sam sat on the floor, enthralled by the fast-paced action in the movie. Sam made a grab for Dean's arm, pulling him down beside him.

"There are super heroes, Dean." Sam whispered, "They fight monsters like we do, except they don't die. Why don't we just let them kill the monsters?"

"Because heroes aren't real, Sammy." Dean said, "You can't fight that many monsters without becoming one."

Sammy's face contorted into a look of concentration and deep thought.

"Am I a monster, Deanie?"

Dean blinked in surprise at the question.

"What? No, of course not!" Dean said, "Why would you even think that?

"I fight monsters." Sam said, "Lots of monsters."

"Yeah, I guess you do." Dean hesitated. "But I don't think that it's fighting monsters that makes you become one. It's more... fighting them for the wrong reasons."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

Dean struggled to come up with examples. "Hate, I guess, revenge."

"But... You and Dad fight monsters because you want to kill the one that killed Mom..." Sam said, "Does that make you and Dad monsters?"

Dean was silent a moment, but then answered.

"I don't know," Dean answered honestly, "maybe."

They watched the rest of the movie, the silence only broken by Sam's occasional asking Dean to explain a joke that had been on the film.

* * *

Dean's eyes shot toward the stairs at the sound of Sonny's footsteps.

"Get ready for bed, boys." Sonny said, "I've already let you stay up later than I had meant to."

Sonny looked Sam and Dean up and down, gauging their size.

"Johnathan, Jude, could you let Sam and Dean borrow some of your night clothes?" Sonny asked, "Just for tonight, I'll taking them to get some tomorrow evening."

Both boys nodded and left to get the clothes while the rest went to change.

Sonny looked to Sam and Dean, the only ones left in the room."

"Why don't you two go brush your teeth while you're waiting?" Sonny said, "The full 2 minutes, you don't want to end up with teeth like mine."

Sonny gave the boys a slightly yellowed grin.

Sam and Dean replied immediately. "Yes, sir."

Sonny watched them walk up the stairs, noting how they responded to the order, not the joke.

* * *

66... 67... 68...

Dean mentally counted the seconds as he brushed his teeth. Sam took the tooth brush out of his mouth and began to rinse it, but Dean shook his head.

"You're not done yet." He said, his mouth still full of a foamy mixture of spit and toothpaste.

Sam glared at him, but reinserted the toothbrush.

Half a minute later, Dean began to rinse his brush, gesturing for Sam to do the same.

Both boys spun around at knock at the door.

Standing in the doorway were Johnathan standing at the door with two sets of night clothes..

"Here, I think these should fit you guys. Just ask if they don't fit right or if you want other ones." Johnathan handed the smaller set of night clothes to Sam, and the larger to Dean.

"Thank you." Dean said.

Johnathan wavered at the door, "Goodnight, I guess. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Dean repeated.

* * *

After changing into their borrowed night clothes, Dean and Sam made their way into the room they were staying in. Both boys crawled into bed, Sam snuggling down into the poofy covers like a worm wiggles in dirt.

"It smells funny." Sam frowned, "Like Dad's grey suit."

"That's because it's clean, Sam." Dean answered, "It smells like laundry detergent."

There was a knock at the door and Sonny slowly entered the room.

"I wasn't sure if you two would be asleep by now." Sonny said, "I just came in to make sure you were comfortable and to say goodnight."

"We're fine, sir, thank you." Dean answered.

"Goodnight, Mr. Sonny!" Sammy said, cheerfully twisting himself up in the blankets.

Dean just hoped that Sonny didn't notice both he and Sam smelling them.

After goodnights were exchanged, Sonny went to bed, and the room was left in darkness.

* * *

Sam rolled over in his bed, staring directly at Dean who was already half asleep.

"You're not a monster, Dee." Sam determined.

Slowly, lazily, Dean opened his eyes.

"How do you figure?"

"Well, I was thinking about it, and..." Sam paused trying to find words to voice his thoughts. "Dad does fight for revenge, so I guess he must be a monster. But... you don't, Dean. You fight for a different reason."

Dean yawned loudly, and Sam shot him an annoyed look.

"Oh, don't let me interrupt _your_ description of how _my_ head works." Dean mumbled, "It's not like I want to sleep." In truth, that entire conversation had been nipping at Dean's mind for hours. Was he a monster?

Sam's face twisted into a pout, taking on a slightly hurt look, and he rolled away from Dean. When Sam remained in that position three minutes later, Dean sighed.

Dean opened his eyes and sat up.

"I'm sorry."

"I thought you were _sleeping_ , Dean." Sammy said.

"What were you going to say?"

"Doesn't matter." Sam sniffed.

Dean mentally slapped himself for accidentally hurting his brother's feelings. At the same time though, he was just so tired... He wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. He was so tempted to just quit, let this whole fiasco fizzle out on its own, but Dean knew better. If he didn't press Sam to continue, a rift would begin between them, and that was deadly. To both of them.

"If you don't tell me what you were going to say," Dean said, "I will squeeze it out of you." Dean picked Sam up in a crushing hug, wrapping his long arms around the small ten year old. Slowly, he squeezed harder.

Sam began making small grunting noises after a few seconds and soon, but not as soon as Dean would have liked, Sam broke.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you!"

Dean immediately released his brother, and leaned back against the pillow as he listened to Sam, briefly resting his eyes.

"You're to a monster because you don't fight for revenge like Dad does." Sam said, "You fight to protect people. To keep what happened to us from happening to them. You don't want to fight, but you want to save people. You just happen to help like this."

"If only things were that simple..." Dean whispered.

"What? I didn't hear you." Sam said.

"Nothing, Sam." Dean answered, "We should get some sleep."

* * *

Suspicion of his comfort nagged at Dean, begging him to stay awake just in case all of this was fake, but exhaustion overtook them both.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Alright, that's one more chapter down. Who knows how many more to go? Anyway, I hope you guys like it. Oh, I need to explain why Sam's acting pretty childish for a 10 year old, and Dean so grown up for 14. After some research and general common sense, I found out that children who live in difficult situations generally either act younger than they are to get treated as the "baby of the family" or much older "as closer to an equal to the adult" in order to get through those tough times. It just depends on which strategy the children are most prone to. If there are siblings, they often use opposite techniques.**_


	5. Chapter 5

Dean lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. He'd been unable to decide if it was better to wake up before Sonny or to wake up after Sonny. On one hand, he didn't want to appear lazy, but on the other, he didn't have a clue what he'd do if he got up at this hour. There wasn't any hunt he had to prepare for, they weren't moving, there wasn't any stuff to pack up. So instead, he lay in bed, awake.

Dean found himself shivering slightly, despite the heat that was in the room. Something about all of this... It was just off.

After about 15 minutes' consideration (and boredom) Dean sat up, slowly sliding his feet onto the clean carpet floor. He took a moment to appreciate the softness of it, slowly scrunching his toes in the carpet. He quickly stopped himself once he realized he was doing this. His cheeks grew red even though no one had seen him.

 _Windows need salted._ Dean reflected, as he gazed out the window at the sun which hadn't yet begun to rise. It was that strange time when the earth couldn't seem to decide between light and darkness. That strange time, where there was no sun visible, yet still there was the smallest bit of light.

Despite his original intention of leaving the room, Dean stood there watching as the sun slowly rose. All thought was cleared from his mind.

Dean wasn't sure how long he stood there. It could have been hours, for all he knew. But it didn't matter.

There was nothing but the _light._

* * *

Sonny stood at the door, but hesitated to enter, hearing no sound in the room.

He generally let the boys sleep in on the first day, figuring that they would need the extra sleep after the big change that they were experiencing.

It was awfully early, but somehow, Sonny knew Dean was awake.

The door slowly creaked open and through the twilight, Sonny eyes took in the shape of Dean staring out the window.

Sonny walked to stand behind him, admiring the sunrise himself.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

* * *

Dean was startled, but didn't jump. He chastened himself.

 _He shouldn't have been able to catch me by surprise. I should have been paying more attention._

"Yes." Dean answered.

There was a small moment of silence, both of them just standing there. It was comfortable, but there was still a distance between them. It was enough space that Dean could breathe easily still, even with someone other than Sam in fairly close proximity.

"Why are you up?" Sonny asked.

"I could ask you the same question." Dean's voice was soft, almost silvery like. As though only a part of his mind were in his words, he stared into the sunrise, even as Sonny looked to him.

"I'm a farmer, what's your excuse?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Hm." Sonny said. "Now, think you can try for the truth?"

"It is." Dean said, "I've never been allowed to sleep past dawn. Not unless I'm sick or hurt."

"Why is that?"

"I-" Dean hesitated, "I don't know... I never asked."

"Hm."

* * *

Sonny didn't want the conversation to end. He'd found that Dean was less guarded if no one else was around.

"Well, since you're up, I could use a hand cooking breakfast."

Dean nodded in response, finally tearing his eyes from the sunrise. As he did, Sonny noticed that in the right light, his eyes almost glowed.

Slowly, Sonny noted, Dean followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. The boy looked lost. As though he were coming in here for the first time, and hadn't been staying here for the past day.

"You alright?" Sonny frowned. "You don't look too great."

Dean shook his head, blinking a few times. "I'm fine."

"You know how to fry eggs?" Sonny asked.

Dean nodded. "Yes sir."

"Fry up 2 dozen." Sonny said, "Eggs are in the fridge, pan's in the cabinet."

Dean began working, but seemed uncomfortable getting into the unfamiliar cabinets and fridge.

Soon enough, however, Sonny heard the crackle of frying eggs.

"So Dean... What's your old man like?" Sonny asked, as nonchalantly as he could manage.

Dean hesitated, "He's... normal, I guess... Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Sonny said, "Describe him. As a person."

"Um... He's... He's brave. He works really hard, definitely goals oriented. He's smart, strategic, logical mostly. He's loyal, he won't leave any hunt- um- coworkers behind."

"What about as a Dad?" Sonny said, "Is he strict, lenient? How does he handle you boys?"

"It uh- It depends." Dean answered.

"What, on the situation?" Sonny asked.

Dean nodded in responce.

"Can you give examples?"

"If we're ever on our own, he wants us to be independent and able to take care of ourselves when he's not around, but we're supposed to follow his orders whenever he is around."

"He's gone a lot?"

Dean nodded.

"For how long at a time?"

Dean hesitated, "Days, sometimes weeks."

"When was he supposed to come back?" Sonny asked.

"This time?"

"Yeah."

Dean didn't answer, choosing to flip an egg instead.

"Dean, how long has he been gone?" Sonny repeated.

"Around two weeks." Dean admitted, "He said he'd been gone two days, left us with some money for food, but it ran out a while ago..."

"That's why you stole the peanut butter." Sonny nodded.

"Before lunch yesterday, how long had it been since you'd eaten?"

"Sam hadn't eaten since lunch the day before."

"I wasn't asking about Sam."

"Yeah, but-"

"How long had it been for you Dean?"

"I- I uh-" Dean paused. "I don't remember. We weren't allowed outside the hotel room and we couldn't open the curtains... Days, they... They just sort of blurred together. I don't know, it wasn't too bad."

"Wasn't too bad..." Sonny repeated in dismay, "How often do you go without food, kid?"

Dean shrugged, "Whenever I have to."

"Hm... Well, just know that you'll never go hungry here." Sonny said.

Dean graced him a brief smile.

"Thanks."

* * *

There silence for awhile. It was a little more comfortable than it had been earlier.

"How is Sam adjusting?" Sonny asked.

"He's alright." Dean answered, once again flipping an egg.

He didn't even flinch when the oil popped his arm.

"Good, good, good." Sonny said, "Could you keep an eye on the sausage while I wake the rest o' the boys?"

"Sure." Dean shifted his weight so that he was standing towards the middle of the stove.

"Don't bother waking Sam, he'll get up when he hears footsteps."

"I'll take that into consideration." Sonny said.

* * *

 _I should get up._ Sam thought. _I really should... Dean's already up... But... The pillows are so fluffy..._

Sam huffed with irritation as he slowly, defiantly, slid his feet onto the floor, letting his toes touch down for a moment before the soles of his feet did.

 _I don't wanna..._ He mentally whined.

Sighing, he stood up.

* * *

Sonny, not hearing any sound coming from the room Sam was in, quietly slid the door open.

He was surprised to see Sam looking completely awake and alert. He was fully dressed and standing at the head of his bed.

"Morning, Sam. How'd ya sleep?" Sonny asked.

"Well, Mr. Sonny." Sam responded.

"Good boy," Sonny said, "ready to help me out today?"

"Yep- er- Yes sir." Sam said, cheerfully.

"Alright then, why don't ya go brush your teeth, then go downstairs for breakfast?" Sonny said, then added, "Remember the 2 minute rule."

Sam nodded, then quickly went to accomplish his assigned tasks.

As Sonny passed the bathroom a moment later, he heard a soft counting coming from the room.

"78... 79... 80... 81..."

Sonny sighed and chuckled. These boys, they obeyed immediately and completely. Down to the smallest of details.

* * *

Within a few minutes all the boys were seated at the table, sleepily digging into breakfast.

Sonny noted that Dean and Sam were the only ones that seemed fully awake, once again scarfing down the food as though someone was going to take it from them. It was good. Putting on a little weight would be good for them; it'd make them a little healthier.

Once they were all finished Sonny turned to Dean, "Hay harvestin' is pretty easy, Jonathan can show you the ropes. I'm sure you'll pick it up fast. Sam, you'll stick with me today." Sonny said, "Alright boys, get to work."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Sorry it has been awhile. School has had me pretty busy. I've been trying to get the plot moving, but Sonny and Dean bonding moments are just too fun to write. Now, however, the plot is gonna start rolling!_**


	6. Chapter 6

"...you just grab a bale, throw it on the truck, and I'll make sure it's stacked right." Johnathan said, "We swap off every hour. Tom will be down there helping you load for now. Working like this in the sun takes getting used to, just wave your hand if you want to swap off a little early. "

"Alright." Dean nodded, looking out at the vast field. It was _filled_ with hay-bales.

Johnathan laughed, "Once upon a time we tried convincing him to make the big round bales so that we could just use the tractor instead, but uh... we stuck with the square bales. Sonny's argument was that the work is good for us."

Dean smirked, "That's what my dad says too."

"Yeah..." Johnathan trailed off, and they began working.

The hours passed quickly, them swapping jobs periodically. As it turned out, Dean quite enjoyed the work. He hadn't expected not to like it, I mean, all it was was throwing hay bales around. His started burning a bit after a few hours, but Dean was used to it. Something about the mindlessness of the task calmed him. It took thought, but not to much, not to little. He was able to slow down his mind and think about the situation at hand more objectively.

Things were going pretty well. Sam liked Sonny, liked the farm; he was getting used to the other boys, though he hadn't talked with them much. There didn't seem to be any immediate threats, supernatural or otherwise, with the exception of Peter, but Dean didn't think him too big of a problem. Problems like that solve themselves when left alone, and that was Dean's hope for this particular situation.

Dean felt his mind clear and body relax. He and Sam were safe, at least for now. He let himself get into a rhythm, pick up the bale, throw the bale, pick up, throw, pick up, throw, pick up, throw...

* * *

Sam and Sonny trudged down the hill, Sam struggling to carry a five gallon bucket full of water. Sonny offered to help him repeatedly, but Sam refused each time. He was determined to do it himself. He was strong enough. Sonny held another bucket that was considerably lighter. Sonny pursed his lips, flinching towards Sam to help him every time that Sam's tiny hands slid on the bucket's handle.

 _Too tiny,_ Sonny reflected sadly, _It can't just be genetic._

Malnutrition was obviously a problem for both boys.

"Come and get it!" Sonny called out, when he was nearly down the hill.

Peter had the truck off and put in park in less than a second. All the boys dropped what they were doing and ran over to Sonny, their hands all jamming into the bucket at once.

"Hey, hey, easy. Don't smash 'em." Sonny said.

Once the rest of the boys had cleared the bucket, Dean went up and pulled out the last sandwich.

"I hope you like PB&J, Dean." Sonny said, "That's the only one left."

"It's fine, Mr. Sonny, thank you." Dean unwrapped his sandwich, biting into it. The blackberry jam, obviously homemade, caught him by surprise. It had to be a thousand times better than store bought.

Peter came and brushed his shoulder as he walked past.

"Hey, Dean, finally got your peanut butter, didn't ya?" Peter smirked.

Dean, caught off guard by the prod, opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated.

 _Just leave it alone,_ Dean thought, _Responding will only encourage him._

Instead of speaking, Dean just went to refill the canteen that Sonny had given him this morning with water from Sammy's bucket.

Dean sighed with irritation when Peter followed him.

"I said, you finally got your peanut butter, _didn't ya?_ " Peter repeated.

"I heard you." Dean responded calmly, "Sorry, I didn't know you were expecting a response."

This phrase was spoken with the slightest bit of warning, the slightest bit of 'stop messing with me.'

Peter started to speak, but apparently couldn't think of a good response and ended up just walking away.

Dean sat down on a plot of earth a little ways away from the other boys, who had all stayed relatively close to Sonny, the source of food.

Almost immediately, Sam came along and plopped himself on the ground beside his brother, a sandwich in his own hand. Peter kept glaring at them from his seat on the overturned bucket.

"I wish he'd stop being an idiot." Dean groaned, "The last thing I want to deal with right now is him."

"He's not an idiot." Sam said, "He's just... ig... ignor..."

"You mean ignorant?" Dean questioned. He was half-way surprised, but not really. "Where'd you come across that word?"

"I read it in one of Sonny's books!" Sam beamed with pride.

Dean smiled, " _Mr._ Sonny, Sam, _Mr._ Sonny."

Sam just nodded.

"Are you liking helping Mr. Sonny?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded enthusiastically, "It's a lot of fun. He let me help feed the chickens and collect eggs and..." Sam named off several other tasks that he had helped Sonny with.

"Good." Dean said, "Just remember to keep watch for anything weird."

Sam pressed his lips together and nodded.

* * *

Unable to hear from such a distance, Sonny only watched as Dean and Sam conversed. Their actions were quiet and calm, in stark contrast to the other boys who had by now finished eating and were horse playing around. Sonny couldn't help but smile as Sam picked bits of hay out of Dean's hair.

 _Haircuts._ Sonny thought, _There's another thing that needs to be done._

"Sam, Dean, pack it up. We're rolling out. The rest of ya's, keep on working." Sonny said, "We gotta get some more clothes for you two."

Within seconds, both boys were standing in front of Sonny, holding the two, now empty, buckets.

"Whew, Dean, well, guess I hadn't thought that far yet. Why don't you take a shower first, buddy?" Sonny said, "You could use it. Sam here can help me get the truck ready."

Dean nodded and walked back up to the house.

Just awhile later, all three were in the truck and on the road.

* * *

"It's a bit of a drive, we don't exactly live close to town." Sonny remarked.

Dean and Sam didn't respond, just stared vacantly out the window.

Sonny noticed that both Sam and Dean seemed pretty content, just watching the land pass by their windows as a breeze fluttered against their faces.

Soon they had pulled up to the store. As they walked in, Sonny noticed that Sam shied away from people, trying to avoid close proximity.

"I don't suppose either of you know what sizes you wear?" Sonny asked.

Sam hesitantly shook his head, starting with only a small movement that slowly escalated to a more noticeable one.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to make a guess then have you try 'em on." Sonny said, "I doubt there's still a tag on your shirts or jeans."

Sonny held a few shirts up to Sam before deciding he was a children's medium.

"Have a look kiddo, find something you like, and we'll see about getting it in the right size." Sonny said, as he picked through a few shirts to find one that fit Dean.

After awhile, Sonny determined that Dean wore a men's small or medium slim, depending on the brand.

"Go pick out something you like." Sonny said. Dean turned to do as he was told, but Sonny spoke again. "And Dean,"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't look at the price tag." Sonny said, "So long as its good quality, comfortable, and fits you good, it's worth it."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Aww... Even I smiled at that last part. Dean's probably not even gotten that much verbal affection before...**_


	7. Chapter 7

Dean pulled another shirt over Sam's head as they stood in the dressing room. After adjusting it slightly, he held Sam at arm's length.

"I'm not a baby anymore, Dean." Sam protested, "I can dress myself."

"Then explain to me why you came in with a pile of shirts that were too small or too big, but none the right size." Dean said, holding a different shirt up to Sam's body. Sam only pouted in response.

"Which one do you like better?" Dean asked.

"The orange one."

"Of course, the one with bugs on it." Dean sighed, "Alright, pick four more. Mr. Sonny told us to pick five shirts, three pairs of jeans."

"Then I want four more of those."

"Of the orange ones?" Dean asked.

"Yup."

"Sam, you can't have five of exactly the same shirt."

"Why not?"

"Because... That's just not how it works. Besides, one has to be a dress shirt." Dean said.

"Then I'll have the green one and the blue one too." Sam declared.

"What about this red one?" Dean asked.

"Hmm... No, the purple one."

"You do realize that every shirt you've chose so far has bugs on it and that the only difference is in the color of the background, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

* * *

Sonny stared at Sam's choice of clothing, then looked over at Dean.

"It's what he wanted." Dean shrugged.

"Alrighty then..." Sonny stuck the clothes in the cart, along with the jeans Sam had selected, which were all identical. "Did you find something you liked?"

"Uh, yeah." Dean handed Sonny the clothes. "And thanks for this, for uh- everything."

"Don't mention it."

Sonny put Dean's clothes in the cart.

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no!" Sam shook his head violently.

"Sam, you've got to get a haircut." Dean said.

"But it buzzes by my ear-" Sam persisted.

"No buts."

Sonny looked Sam over.

"How about we compromise?" Sonny suggested, "We won't cut it short, how about we just trim it a bit? Just make it a little more even. That way, we won't have to use the clipper and there won't be any buzzing. I promise I give good haircuts. Plus, Dean will be right by you the whole time."

Sam eyed Sonny warily, "I guess."

* * *

Snip, snip, just a few more snips now, snip, snip, snip... done.

"Alright, kiddo." Sonny said, "We're all finished." Sonny set down the scissors, and held up a mirror. "What do ya think?"

Sam looked at himself critically.

"I guess it's not too bad..." he admitted.

"Good. Why don't you go shower and get all that hair off of you?" Sonny suggested, "Having it tickle you for the rest of the day wouldn't be to pleasant, I imagine."

Sam nodded, "Dean gets a hair cut too?" he asked.

"Yup." Sonny said, "Can't have the both of you running around all shaggy like."

"Hmm..." Sam trailed off and left to shower.

"So, Dean, want it left long like your brother's," Sonny asked, "or do you want it cut short?"

Dean didn't answer for a moment, debating his response. When he finally answered, Sonny could tell there was more than just an aesthetic reason behind it.

"Cut it short," Dean said, "please."

"Okie dokie." Sonny took the clipper to Dean's head, and hair began coming off in small clumps. Dean closed his eyes as the clipper rolled over his head and the buzzing sound came near his ears. In contrast to Sam, Dean was completely relaxed.

"Alright, you're all done." Sonny said, switching off the clippers.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, pausing on portion towards the front of his head that was a little longer. He attempted to curl his fingers around it, trying to tug at it, but the hair was short enough it was difficult to get a good grip.

"Thanks." Dean looked up at Sonny, "I like this a lot."

"You haven't even seen it yet, kiddo." Sonny chuckled, "Go take a shower."

* * *

Dean stood in front of the steamy mirror, staring at the reflection. Not _his_ reflection, _the_ reflection. It wasn't his, it couldn't be. It was so... so different.

Even being here for such a small amount of time, he was filling out a little, his ribs becoming less visible, and his face becoming slightly more rounded. He was clean, not just "not covered in blood and guts" type of clean, but actually _clean._ His hair was cut by clippers and scissors, not the hunter's knife that he and Sam had been forced to use so many times before, just to keep the hair out of their eyes. His hair was short, difficult to get a grip on.

Dean didn't recognize himself.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Dean quickly wrapped a towel around his waist.

"Yeah, Sam?" Dean turned around, only to find that it wasn't Sam. Instead, Sonny stood there.

"You were taking a bit, I just making sure you were alri-" Sonny's eyes caught on a jagged scar that ran along Dean's side. More laced his chest, a thicker one directly above his heart.

Dean glanced down at the scars, cuts, and bruises covering his body. He quickly readjusted the towel so that it covered him better, lessening the chance of Sonny seeing more than he already had. Dean hoped Sonny wouldn't seen the thin white stripes lacing his back, or the messy brand that marked his shoulder.

 _And to think I'd almost thought myself normal for a moment._ Dean thought, _Freak is written all over me, and it'll never go away._

"Dean," Sonny said, as Dean shifted uncomfortably under his stare, "Who did this to you?"

Dean didn't respond, how could he? What would he say? How could he explain it?

"No one." Dean said, "No one did this to me."

"Oh, so they just magically appeared, did they?!" Sonny said, then sighed, realizing he'd let his emotions get the best of himself. "Show me, Dean." he said, in a much calmer voice.

Dean hesitated, but slowly slid the towel back down to his waist, once again revealing his chest and back. Sonny inhaled sharply as Dean turned his back to him.

"Does- does Sam-" Sonny asked, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Some. Not as many." Dean answered.

"Who did this?" Sonny's eyes traced a scar left over from a bullet wound.

Dean hesitated, "Just life, I guess."

"Dean if you're worried that your father-"

"It wasn't Dad."Dean said, "No matter how angry he gets, no matter what he does, he would never do all of this. Now please," Dean said, "just leave it alone."

"Dean, I don't care if your father did this to you. Because if he didn't do it himself, he _let_ it happen and he's not worthy of that title."

"He did the best he could under the circumstances." Dean defended.

"And what are those circumstances?" Sonny asked.

"None of your business," Dean said, "for one."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Yikes, Dean and Sonny fighting just hurts me. At least we got a hint of that sassy person Dean grows up to be. Looks like it was in him from the beginning!**_


	8. Chapter 8

"You alright, Dean?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look alright."

"Then stop looking."

Johnathan was temporarily taken aback by Dean's rudeness towards him, and walked back into his own bedroom, deciding to give Dean some space. About half an hour later, he heard a knock on the door. Looking up from his book, Johnathan said, "Come in."

Dean walked through the door way looking hesitant and slightly apologetic.

"Listen, I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier." Dean said, "It's been a long day... I guess I'm just tired."

"Hey, it's fine." Johnathan smiled, "There's a lot of things going on. All of us were a little irritable for the first few days."

"Peter just never stopped, I guess?" The words were out of Dean's mouth before he registered them, which was unusual for him. Luckily, Johnathan laughed.

"Just don't say that too loud, he might come after you." Johnathan said.

"Somehow I get the feeling he will anyway."

"Yeah... Well, you do what you can do." Johnathan shrugged, "Anyway, the reason I popped in was to tell you that supper would be ready in an hour."

Dean glanced down to his watch, "Probably closer to twenty minutes now. Thanks."

"Anytime."

* * *

Dean made his way down the stairs with Sam right beside him. Knowing Sam safe and near by, Dean was able to relax a little more.

Work for the day was done, and the rest of the boys were just hanging around the house, goofing off until suppertime.

* * *

Sam glanced over at the TV which had a cool show with cars that turned into robots. He reeeeeeallllyyy wanted to watch the show, but somehow Sam knew that he needed to stay with Dean.

He wasn't sure how, but somehow, Sam knew that Dean needed him right now, and he wasn't about to abandon him.

Sam gently took Dean's hand, soon feeling Dean's fingers curl around his. Dean absently rubbed the top of Sam's hand with his thumb.

They followed their noses to the kitchen, where Sonny was cooking super.

Sam's attention was immediately diverted when he saw Sonny grating cheese.

"Can I do it?" Sam asked, "I want to try."

Sonny glanced down at him, "Have at it, little man."

"I'm not little." Sam protested, taking on a slightly pouty look which quickly dissipated. "Dean can cut the peppers."

Sonny smiled as Sam quickly took control of the chili situation.

* * *

Dean's hands wrapped around the kitchen knife and he ran his fingers down the cold blade. Only a week ago this blade would have been doused in deadman's blood cutting through the air towards a vampire.

Now, it was hilt deep in a green bell pepper.

It was strange. Dean didn't particularly care for hunting. He was good at it, his father did it, and he had learned to like it over time, but it still wasn't something he would have chosen for himself. But now he missed it. The familiarity of a knife in his hand, his heart pumping rapidly, his lungs aching for air, his body stinging from cuts and bruises.

Dean smirked as he imagined the satisfaction of slowly sliding a sliver knife across the neck of a shapeshifter. It felt so _good._ Blood running down your hands, the screams of monsters echoing in your ears, the calm that came from knowing that, for once, you were in complete control of this situation. You got to chose who would live, and who would die.

But then there was Sam. Sam was innocent, or at least as innocent as he could be in their line of work. He didn't have... he didn't have the... the bloodlust, that Dean and his father had.

Dean was shocked when these words came to mind, _I really am a monster._

The opportunity that had been presented to them, Sonny opening his home up to them... it was pretty much the only chance Sam had of a normal life. And Sam deserves that. At least a chance.

Then Dean's thoughts switched to his father. Where was he? On a hunt probably, or between hunts. What could he be hunting? A vampire? Werewolf? Shapeshifter? Skinwalker? Was he after the demon that killed mom? What if he was hurt and alone? What if he was dead? Or, worse, what if he was being tortured? What if he needed help, and Dean and Sam weren't there to help him? What if they were just standing here, enjoying their 'apple pie' life, when their Dad needed them?

* * *

Distracted by his thoughts, Dean didn't notice when he accidentally pressed too hard and slit his palm with the knife. He just continued to chop the pepper.

When Sonny came over to dump the now chopped onions into the pot, he noticed the red leaking down Dean's fingers and pooling on the chopping board.

"You've cut yourself." Sonny commented, "Go grab a band-aid for that."

Sonny repeated himself when Dean didn't answer.

"Dean!" Dean finally came back to himself and flinched away as Sonny grabbed his shoulder.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I've been talking to you for three minutes." Sonny frowned, "You've cut yourself, we need to get that taken care of, make sure it's not too deep."

Dean glanced down to his hand, now covered in blood.

"Oh." he said, blinking a few times. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Sonny said, he gently took Dean's hand and pulled it above the sink, beginning to run cold water on it. "Sammy, could you grab the first aid kit? It's beneath the sink in the bathroom."

Sam nodded, and went to do the assigned task.

"You alright, Dean?" Sonny asked, "You seem a million miles away."

"I'm fine," Dean answered, "just thinking. Must have not been pushing to hard, not paying enough attention. There's blood on the peppers."

"Don't worry about them. We can was them off and the other boys won't know the difference." Sonny said, "What were you thinking about?"

"Just... Dad," Dean said, "wondering where he is."

Dean was momentarily surprised, he hadn't meant to tell the truth. Something about Sonny, he was so easy to talk to... Unnaturally easy... Perhaps _supernatural_ ly easy... Dean slowly looked up at Sonny. He couldn't be a skinwalker or shapeshifter, Dean had seen him touch a sliver candle stick that had been sitting on the fireplace mantel earlier. He couldn't be a demon, Dean had snuck some holy water into his glass during breakfast this morning... Whatever Sonny was, if he was something, it was nothing Dean had come across before. Could be that he was just a nosy human who just happened to have an easy-going demeanor too.

Either way, Dean knew he needed to keep a close eye on Sonny. He needed to be careful what he said. Sonny already knew too much.

* * *

Sonny inspected the cut even as it was underwater. It was deeper than he had expected, tearing down to the bottom layer of skin, just above the muscle. It wouldn't need stitches, but it wasn't far from needing them. Sonny couldn't comprehend, even being as engrossed in his thoughts as he had been, how Dean didn't notice the cut.

Only once Sam came back with the first-aid kit and Sonny took Dean's hand from beneath the water and pressed a dry towel to it, did Sonny notice the pale, thin lines that ran all across Dean's left palm. More scars. The kid was covered.

Somehow, Sonny doubted that those were all from chopping peppers.

Sonny felt Sam pushing him away from Dean.

"Move, I can do it." Sam said, "I'm going to do it." Sonny attempted to make Sam let him fix up Dean's hand, but the 9 year old had made up his mind.

Finally, Sonny backed off, watching as Sam peeled off the towel with surprising gentleness and coordination. He carefully applied a small amount of triple antibiotic ointment to the wound. Dean pulled together the two flaps of skin on his hand and Sam placed a butterfly bandage tightly on top of it, then wrapped Dean's hand with a cloth bandage.

Sam scooted back a bit and observed his handy work.

Sonny raised an eyebrow. Both of them had obviously done this before.

* * *

 _ **A/N: The next chapter I'm working on is going to be primarily Sam-centric, so I hope you'll enjoy it.**_

 _ **As always, I love feedback. Hearing what all of you think of the story is very important to me.**_


	9. Chapter 9

The boys sat down to dinner, after a ten minute delay due to Dean's hand.

Sonny started the conversation, "So, Sammy..." he said, "What do you think of the farm?"

"It's cool." Sam said, "But the rooster is scary."

Peter snorted at Sam's fear of the rooster, causing him to choke on his chili for a moment.

Sam sent him a stark glare, bristled, but slowly calmed down as Dean gently rubbed Sam's leg beneath the table. A silent message passed between them.

 _"Calm down, Sam." Dean thought soothingly, "Now's not the time."_

 _"Then when is the time?!"_ Sam shot back.

 _"Not yet. Soon."_

Sam turned his glare on Dean, hoping it would prod him to action.

Dean just sighed and continued eating, Sam still staring intently at him.

* * *

Sonny watched the silent exchange, with interest.

In all the time he'd been taking boys in, he had never had a set of brothers. While Jude and Johnathan, even with the age gap, had been close friends when they came, it was nothing compared to the blood bond that Sam and Dean shared. Their blood bond was achieved both by birth and survival. Sonny didn't exactly know what the deal was, only that the boys had been through a lot together.

Sam seemed to have been mostly spared from the ordeal, he acted normal for the most part so long as he was comfortable and relaxed. Dean, however, there was just something off about him. He was the exact opposite of Sam. Whatever the situation was, they'd gotten Sam out before it messed with him much, but Dean... Dean was an investment. He was a good kid, Sonny could see that just as easily as he could see the spoonful of chili flying right past his face...

 _Wait-_ _What!?_

Sonny immediately dragged himself out of his thoughts. By the time he realized what was happening, he couldn't remember which direction the chili had come from.

"Who did that?"

All the boys, with the exception of Dean, shrugged.

"He did it." Dean stared evenly at Peter.

Peter's face registered genuine surprise at being outed.

"But I didn't-"

Peter's protest quickly escalated and a louder discussion erupted between the boys

"Alright, alright, enough! It doesn't really matter." Sonny said, "Just whoever it was, don't do it again."

* * *

After dinner, Johnathan walked up to Dean, an uneasy look on his face.

"Peter didn't do it."

"Nope." Dean said, not looking away from the book in his hands.

"Then why'd you tell Sonny that he did?"

"He needed a taste of his own medicine." Dean said, "I gave it to him."

"Dean, you really didn't have to-"

Dean cut him off there, "I didn't do it for you."

"Then why...?"

Dean shrugged, "Needed to be done and no one did it."

"But you lied."

"Sometimes that's what it takes."

"But lying is wrong." Johnathan said.

"Then better I did it than you, huh?" Dean glanced up.

Johnathan was unsure how to respond, instead choosing to say nothing. He walked back to his room and sat on his bed, thinking.

Peter did deserve payback, but was it right to give him payback by accusing him of something he didn't do? Why would someone even bother doing that, when it was easy to catch the things he _had_ done?

* * *

Sonny and Sam looked at each other, down at the last brownie, then looked back up at each other. An intense staring match began. Eventually, without letting his eyes leave Sonny's, Sam's little hand shot out, grabbing for the treat.

 _Man, the kid is quick!_ Sonny thought.

Sam immediately raced to another spot in the kitchen, behind the little island, where he could eat his victory in peace.

"I'm gonna get ya'!" Sonny warned, a smile on his face.

Sonny stood still long enough to see Sam's face peeking out from behind the island, a grin on his face, but then a frown as he suddenly realized that Sonny was looking straight at him.

Sonny lunged around the island, only to find... Sam wasn't there.

"What-" Sonny heard footsteps on the stairs. If those stairs didn't creak so bad, Sonny never would have known where he'd had gone.

Sonny walked up the stairs, trying to be quiet himself. The element of surprise was so much fun.

* * *

Sam's heart beat wildly and he tried to quiet and slow his breaths. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears threatening to leak from them as he bent his head up towards the ceiling of the closet and curled in on himself.

 _Maybe Sonny won't find him..._

* * *

Sonny walked into Sam and Dean's bedroom and looked around. Sam's bed was unmade, but there was no lump in it, So Sonny knew he couldn't be hiding there.

After surveying the room, Sonny came to the conclusion that there was only one place Sam could be hiding.

Slowly, he walked towards the barely cracked open closet door. He quickly threw the door open, saying "Gotcha!"

Sam jumped, squeezing his knees towards him even tighter.

Now that light had entered the closet, Sonny could see the tiny glimmering tears that streamed down Sam's face.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong little man?" Sonny asked, gently taking Sam by the arm.

Sam jerked back, pressing himself into the corner of the closet, hiding his face with his hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..." Sam repeated this whispered phrase over and over.

"Calm down, Sammy, what are you sorry for?"

Between the tears, Sammy stuck his thin little arm out and pointed to his unmade bed. Confused, Sonny stood up, and went to look at the bed.

The first thing that he noticed were tiny brownie crumbs scattered throughout the sheets and covers. The brownie had been pressed into the sheet in some spots, presumably where Sam had tried to brush them into his hand.

 _He got the bed messy, then tried to clean it up and it only made it worse._

Sonny walked back to the closet, relieved that that's all it was.

"Look at me Sam," he said, gently grasping Sam's soft hand, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

"Please don't be angry..." Sam whispered.

"I'm not angry, Sam." Sonny said, "Accidents happen, and that's alright. This problem has an easy fix. All we have to do is wash the sheet."

Sam glanced up at him, the ghost of tears in his eyes, "I'm not in trouble?"

"It was an accident." Sonny shrugged, "Why would you be in trouble?"

"But now we have to leave?" Sam said, sounding very confused.

"Why would we have to leave?" Sonny said,

Sam shrugged, embarrassed.

"We just need to wash the sheets. Here, you can help me." Sonny said.

Sonny gently pulled Sam out of the closet, and began gathering the sheets off the bed. After a moment, Sam, still looking very uneasy, joined him.

Within a few minutes, the sheet and all the affected blankets were in the washing machine starting on a long spin.

Sam sat staring at him in their path around the washing machine.

Sonny shut the lid to the washing machine. "See, problem solved."

"Problem solved?" Sam repeated, "But... we only fixed the sheets."

"I didn't see any crumbs on the pillowcase, but we could check again if you want." Sonny said.

"The sheets were the problem?"

Sonny's expression turned to confusion. "Of course, what else would it be?"

"But the sheets didn't spill the crumbs." Suddenly Sonny understood.

"You aren't the problem Sam," Sonny said, "You're young and growing fast, that messes with your coordination. It would be unrealistic to expect an nine year old to not spill stuff."

"But I still did it."

"Did you try to do it?"

"No..."

"Then it's not your fault." Sonny said, "Now that we've figured that out, the other boys are watching a movie and I think your brother's reading a book, you can join them if you want. Or we could play a board game if you wanted."

"What's a board game?"

* * *

 _ **AN: Poor Sam hasn't even gotten to play a board game before... I guess spending most of his life in a car doesn't exactly give them a prime space to play a game...**_

 _ **And yeah, I know I'm changing their ages a thousand times. The problem lies in the fact that I want Sam to be young (8-9 years) and Dean to be a bit older (13-14 years) but that would create an unrealistic age gap. Canon is that they're four years apart, and I don't want to drift from that too much...**_


	10. Chapter 10

"Pick one out, we've got a bunch of 'em."

Sam's eyes searched the shelf. "That one," he said.

Sonny was surprised, but he took down the game.

"Scrabble? Are you sure?" Sonny said, "It's a word game. You've got to be able to spell pretty good."

"Well. You have to be able to spell _well_." Sam corrected, "I can spell well."

"Alrighty then." Sonny chuckled as he set up the game.

* * *

Sonny spent the next hour wondering how in the world Sam knew so much latin.

 _Next time,_ Sonny thought, _I'm definitely banning foreign languages._

Sighing, Sonny put his last few tiles on the board in a desperate attempt to get points.

 _A nine year old is beating me._ Sonny thought, _At a word game... And he's beating me bad._

"Badly." Sam corrected.

Sonny was surprised, he hadn't thought he'd spoken aloud.

"Goodness kid, how much do you read?"

"As much as I can." Sam answered.

"What fiction have you read?"

"Um... I've read most of _To Kill a Mocking Bird, The Count of Monte Cristo, Three Musketeers, Oliver Twist, The Jungle, Animal Farm, 1984,_ and a few others, _"_ Sam said, "But I didn't get to finish them."

"Why's that?" Sonny asked.

"I guess the books must have taken up too much room in the car..." Sam trailed off, "Dad got rid of them."

"Well the books here aren't going anywhere." Sonny said, "Read 'till your heart's content."

* * *

Dean flipped through the pages of his book, looking for anything useful. Greek mythology was about as close to lore as you came in this house, so it would have to do. He hadn't found anything that fit Sonny yet, not Peter and Jonathan either.

 _There has to be something._ Dean thought, _There's no way anyone would be so nice to someone they didn't even know. Must be a Hanzel and Gretle type thing... Fattening Sam and I up before he attacks and reveals his true form..._

Dean mentally ran through the pages of his dad's journal that he had seen. Nothing- Fit-!

Slamming the book in frustration, Dean began to pace the living room.

They'd been in one spot for too long. Surely any monsters in the area were already closing in on them, surrounding them, and cutting off any method of escape. Dean's pacing got more and more frantic as his mind manufactured the many scenarios that could come up. Sonny's a monster, Peter's a monster, Sonny and/or Peter are possessed. What if the other boys had something like that going on?

 _ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN._

 _And I'm totally unprepared..._

"Sa-" Dean realized with dismay thathe had no idea where Sam was.

 _Whoever this monster is, he's already getting to me, making me lower my guard..._ _I have to stay on task._

"Sam!" Dean's heart raced as he quickly searched the house, glancing in each room before moving to the next. "Sam!"

Finally, Dean came to the kitchen, where he was greeted by Sam's grin.

"Come play, Dean," Sam said, "Sonny and I are playing Scrabble."

Slowly, Dean calmed down, realizing that Sam was safe, at least for now. Sonny hadn't shown any flesh eating habits as of yet...

And Sam, as Dean was reminded so many times, Sam actually could take care of himself pretty well in a fight. It was just Dean's job to make sure he didn't have to.

Dean made a promise to his Dad. Wherever Sam was, there would Dean be also.

"I-I don't know how." Dean said, hesitantly sitting next to Sam.

"I can show you." Sam pushed one of the letter trays towards him. "All you do is spell words with the letters and attach them to the words that are already on the board. Oh, and each letter is worth a certain amount of points."

As it turned out, Dean was okay at Scrabble, not quite as good as Sam, but still slightly better than Sonny.

Sonny began too add the scores in a calculator; Sam glanced at the paper. After only a few seconds, Sam snagged the pencil and wrote down each of the scores.

Sonny didn't notice it until he finished calculating the first score.

The scores _matched._

Sam had added the sums faster than the calculator.

* * *

 _So, summary of the past two days._ Sonny thought, I _have taken in two children suffering severe neglect and possible physical and emotional abuse, one of which has just shown himself to be a mathematical and linguistic genius. This should be interesting._

* * *

Sam won, obviously, and though Dean came in second the gap between he and Sonny wasn't really large enough to bother with.

Dean had gotten bad letters towards the end; Sonny was fairly confident that Dean would have beaten him by a larger margin if that hadn't been the case.

Going by the board, someone would have thought that whoever had been playing spoke only a few english words.

Sonny had, in the middle of the game, decided to google the words that seemed a little far fetched. All were there, and Sam and Dean could both define them correctly.

After cleaning up the game, Sonny eyed the clock.

"Well," he said, "Time for you two to get to bed."

* * *

Sam had been asleep for awhile now, but Dean... it was one of those nights. Sleeping had never come easy to him, and thus he was used to waiting until he was about to collapse before even attempting sleep.

Thoughts flitted about his mind, thoughts of Sam and he and their present situation. Was Sam adjusting alright? He seemed to be happy enough. Then came the thoughts of Dad, and what he was doing. Wondering if he was on a hunt; if he was in danger, if he was saving people. Wondering if he missed Dean as much as Dean missed him. He probably didn't. He was probably thankful for the quiet.

So... What was the plan if Sonny were a vampire? What about some other sort of monster?

These thoughts plagued him as he stared up at the ceiling.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Oooh, who caught the foreshadowing of Sammy's powers? I hadn't meant to include that, but on second thought... That could start making things pretty interesting.**_


	11. Chapter 11

Sonny woke up, but didn't move. Instead, he stared up at the ceiling. Estimating it to be about two in the morning, Sonny wondered what had woken him up.

Feeling as though he weren't going to go back to sleep all that quickly, Sonny got up and walked down to the kitchen to make a mug of hot tea. He liked the stuff, but none of the boys could stand it, so he was left to drink it alone. While the cup was brewing, Sonny decided to check on the boys, making sure they were alright. He peeked into their rooms, one by one, and found nothing out of the ordinary until he reached Sam and Dean's.

Dean was sitting up against the head board of his bed, absentmindedly running his fingers through Sam's hair. Coming a little closer, Sonny could see little glistening trails on Sam's cheeks as the moonlight peeked through the window. Sam was asleep now, but it was clear that he hadn't been for long.

There was a listless look in Dean's eyes. As though he knew someone was there in the room with them, but didn't think it a big enough danger to bother processing entirely.

"Is he alright?" Sonny asked.

Dean's eyes focused, flicking up towards Sonny.

"He's fine." Dean answered.

"Nightmare?"

"Most likely." Dean gently extracted himself from beneath Sam, re-positioning him to be more comfortable. He drew the blanket up, covering him more fully.

As Dean stood up, he flinched.

"Timer?" he asked.

"Probably for my tea." Sonny said, "Want to join me?"

Dean looked over at Sam who was sound asleep, showing only traces of the distress he'd been in before. Dean knew he ought to go to sleep, but he wasn't all that tired... Sonny hadn't tried anything yet, and Sam was only upstairs. There'd be plenty of time to get to him if something went wrong.

"I guess."

* * *

"Regular or raspberry hibiscus?" Sonny asked, holding up two different tea bags.

"Just regular." Dean answered.

Dean was familiar with hot tea. He hadn't liked it to begin with, but over time he had learned to. It and coffee were the only thing that you could count on every hotel having. Some hotels had the fancier stuff with all the different flavors raspberry, orange, green tea, and Dean had tried it, but Sam liked those kinds a lot. As luck would have it, Dean preferred the regular.

* * *

As the tea steeped, they just stood in silence. Sonny noticed Dean absentmindedly massaging his fingers and hands, just squeezing and rubbing, trading off hands every once in a while. Thinking back, Sonny remembered seeing Dean doing that everyone in a while since he'd gotten there. It seemed to be habit when he was in uncomfortable situations. This made Sonny determined to put him at ease.

"So, you like old cars?" Sonny asked.

Dean nodded.

"Know how to work on 'em?"

Again, Dean nodded.

"I got an old car in the shed that I've been meaning to fix up. Not quite sure what she is, but I think she'll be a beauty once she's all cleaned up." Sonny said, "Think she'd make a good project for you once you get settled?"

For the first time, since he came, Sonny saw just the slightest bit of light in the boy's eye.

"Really?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Sure." Sonny said, "I haven't had time to work on her and other boys think she's more effort than she's worth. They want those flashy new things that are more plastic than metal. There's no real reason to keep her here unless she's cleaned up. So, what do you say?"

"Yes, sir." Dean said, "Thank you."

 _First kid I've met who's happy about working..._

The timer beeped and Sonny went to the cabinet while Dean pulled the tea bag out of the mug.

"Sugar?" Sonny offered, as he stirred some into his own cup.

* * *

Dean nearly said "No thank you," out of habit. He always gave what ever sugar packets there were at the motel to Sam, because he refused to drink the tea without them. But Sam wasn't up. Dean looked into the container that Sonny dug spoonfuls out of.

 _There is plenty of sugar..._ Dean thought. With that, he succumbed to the temptation.

"Yes, please."

Sonny slid the container over to him and tossed him a spoon.

* * *

Sonny watched as Dean deposited a small spoonful of sugar into the tea, then moved to pick up the sugar and put it away.

"You can have as much as you like." Sonny said, "Just remember we've got to go back to bed after this."

Dean hesitated, withdrawing his hand and looked at the container. After a moment, he put another spoonful in. Then one more.

Dean quickly dropped the spoon into the tea. Sonny could tell that Dean did that to prevent himself from getting more.

They entered the living room, each choosing a seat. Sonny subconsciously noticed that Dean had chosen one facing the door. To begin with, Dean sat straight, posture stiff and feet on the ground. As time progressed, however, he gradually relaxed, slowly drawing his feet up to the right side of him.

He seemed to savor the tea as though he had never tasted anything better in his life. He did that with all food, Sonny noticed.

Dean paused when he noticed Sonny staring at him, hesitating.

"Sorry... I-" Dean began, but Sonny cut him off.

"You don't have to apologize, Dean, you're not doing anything wrong." Sonny said.

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but apparently couldn't find words to say. Instead, he just stared at Sonny in a way that made him feel like Dean was looking inside of him, boring a hole into his heart.

Sonny could almost see Dean's fear, his confusion, anxiety. He didn't know what to make of all this. Sonny only wanted to comfort the boy, but knew that all attempts at it would be read as an attack. So Sonny decided he'd just have to settle on being empathetic for now.

"Things have been changing pretty fast, huh?"

"Sort of, I guess." Dean answered, his gaze having shifted down to his cup, which he rubbed, just as he had rubbed his hands earlier. "Sam and I, were used to it."

"Probably a different sort of change though." Sonny said.

Dean hesitated, then nodded.

"Do you like it here?" Sonny asked.

"Sam does." Dean answered.

"I wasn't asking about Sam." Sonny said, "Do _you_ like it here?"

"I don't know."

Somehow, Sonny knew that was the most honest answer Dean could possibly have given.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So here's another little snippet of Dean bonding with Sonny.**_


	12. Chapter 12

The next few days passed quickly, without much incident. Sam and Dean had begun to grow used to the schedule, and the other boys accepted them for the most part. That is, except Peter.

Dean knew that there was going to be difficulties with him, but this was ridiculous. Dean and Johnathan were working in the field, and Peter was driving the truck, as usual. There weren't many hay bales in the area, and Johnathan had gone for a water break, knowing Dean could handle it until he got back.

Then Peter started driving faster. Then a little faster. He kept speeding up until Dean was almost having to jog from hay bale to hay bale to keep up.

Dean growled as time went on, wondering what could possibly be taking Johnathan so long. It wasn't that Dean was afraid to confront Peter, just that he would prefer to avoid that if at all possible. He'd like to be on as good of terms as possible with the rest of the boys. The more they liked him, the more honest they'd be. So, he kept working.

Fifteen minutes passed and Dean began to tire. He could keep going, he knew, but he had begun to feel the affects of it. His breaths came in short and quick, his legs burning and arms growing heavy. Every once in a while, Dean saw Peter look back at him with a surprised look on his face. He likely expected him to give up long ago.

Somehow, the exertion was comforting, reminding him of hunting with Dad. Even being here for only a few days, Dean felt the need to run for his life. Not because he was scared, though he was that too, but just because that's what he was used to doing. He needed to run, to feel something at his back, pushing him forwards. He needed the cool metal of a gun pressed against his head. The sting of a knife at his neck.

Strange things to miss, he knew. But all of this... it was so new, so different. The repetitiveness of the schedule was maddening. It required just enough thought that he couldn't settle back into the frame of that he had grown so used to, but not enough to really stimulate his mind.

It was like the downtime between hunts, except with less to do. There were no guns to polish, no techniques to train, no research to do.

Somehow, the lack of stress was stressful.

Dean needed panic, he needed that feeling of not knowing whether he would come out of the situation alive. He _needed_ it.

It was this _need_ that made him so tempted to run up to the truck and throw Peter from the driver's seat and start a fight. Only his father's training prevented him.

 _We don't start fights, Dean, we finish them._ Those were the words that John had said to Dean after he had gotten in a fight. John never asked Dean was fighting. If he had, Dean liked to think that his response might have been reconsidered. Maybe even saying that sometimes fighting was warranted. But Dean never told. He had to keep believing that John's answer would be entirely different if he had known that Dean had been defending Sam from those that were picking on him.

It was a while before Dean came back to himself, focusing on the task at hand. Hay. Jonathan still wasn't back, so Dean pushed himself. Pushed himself, until he reached his limit. Then he went further.

Somehow, this was exactly what he needed.

Only when dark spots appeared before his eyes did he hesitate. The dizziness that had been slowly sneaking up on him now hit him full force. Distantly, he heard a voice. He stumbled legs giving out. He caught himself jerkily, going back up to one knee. It wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling, but it was familiar, it was right. Pushing yourself until you couldn't go further, that he knew.

"Dean!" the voice was distorted, but after a moment's semi-conscious thought, Dean determined it was Johnathan's. He tried to stand and turn around to see him, but his efforts in vain. He dropped back to his knees after a single step. Now, at least he was near a hay bale. Dean used one hand to steady himself as he knelt on one knee, hoping to stand again as soon as his vision cleared. But it didn't. It got worse.

For the first time, he noticed the immense heat around him. It was an abnormally warm for this late in the summer. Dean's mind worked slowly, but he reasoned that it must be why every thing seemed more difficult than it ought to today. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his arms and shirt were soaked. Dean felt a sunburn blooming on his already tanned skin.

All this, and yet the heat seemed only at his core. His arms, legs, and face tingled with cold.

 _Maybe I went a little harder than I thou..._ He couldn't even finish the thought as his vision blacked out completely and his mind went slack. He was out.

* * *

"Dean. Dean!" Johnathan said, shaking Dean lightly, "Wake up!" Johnathan felt panic setting in, and he forced himself to be calm. What had Sonny told him to if someone passed out?

Johnathan pulled Dean flat onto the ground and propped his legs up on the conveniently placed bale of hay. He anxiously waited for Dean to show some form of awareness.

Eventually, after what felt like hours to Johnathan, but was really less than two minutes, Dean came to.

Somehow, Dean was almost immediately alert, standing up only a moment after his eyes opened.

"Hey, take it easy. You just passed out." Johnathan said, "You alright?"

"Yeah uh-" Dean paused, blinking, as the dark spots returned to his vision.

"Why don't you sit down again?" Johnathan suggested.

Dean shook his head, "I'll be alright. I'll just get some water and I'll be good as new."

"I could-" Johnathan sighed with frustration at Dean's stubbornness. Dean began walking towards the water pump.

He was gonna go down again, it was obvious. He simply didn't have the strength to get there.

* * *

Dean was about half way there when the spots returned again.

"Dean, you're really pale..." Johnathan said, "If you'd just let me help you-"

"I'm fine."

 _It's only another fifteen feet, I can make it._ Dean reasoned. He kept going, choosing to ignore the tingling cold that began returning to his limbs. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, breaths coming quickly. Dean knew exactly what was wrong with him, he'd had it a billion times before. Heat exhaustion. Water would help, so he had to get water. Then everything went dark again.

* * *

"Well this seems familiar." Johnathan muttered with slight annoyance. He'd originally felt sorry for leaving Dean alone out there for so long, he should have suspected that Peter would try something. Now, however, Dean was being a jerk about it and refusing any help that he offered.

He was just getting Dean to the ground when he came to suddenly, much quicker than he had before. He pushed Johnathan away from him and struggled to his feet.

"Dean, seriously?!" Johnathan groaned, "Stop being such a jerk, and let me help you!" Not wanting a third repeat of that scenario, Johnathan reached to grab Dean's wrist to guide him to the ground, but withdrew immediately when Dean violently flinched away from the contact, squeezing his eyes shut.

And them Johnathan knew. He'd been there longer than most of the other boys. Many had come and gone, either their parents had come and gotten them, or they'd been adopted or appointed a guardian. But Johnathan had stayed. Because of this, he'd seen the symptoms often enough to recognize them.

He wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed them in Dean and Sam long before this.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I didn't know-"

* * *

Dean's mind was still reeling, trying to understand what had caused him to react the way he had. Johnathan had just been trying to help, Dean knew that, but that hadn't prevented the panic that came when he felt the hand tighten around his wrist.

 _"Get in the car." John ordered, "Hurry!" Silent tears dripped down Dean's face as he frantically felt for the door handle in the vast darkness._

 _"What are you waiting for!?" John said, "Get in there, your brother's hurt!"_

 _"The monster got me- stuff in my eyes... I can't see." Dean answered, still feeling for the door handle. Dean hoped his voice didn't show the fear he felt, but he knew it did. Sammy could be bleeding out in there while Dean couldn't even find the door handle. What good would he do once he was in there anyway? How was he supposed to give Sam medical attention when he couldn't even see? Sam might die and it would be all his fault._

 _"Got to do everything myself." John muttered. He fired his shotgun, temporarily disabling the monster that was after them._

 _Dean cried out as John roughly grabbed him by the wrist and threw him against the car, away from the monster's weapon that had been only inches away from his skull. John pushed Dean into the car then quickly slammed the door and kept fighting. Dean blindly crawled to his brother, listening for any evidence of life before attempting to staunch the flow of blood leaking from the 6 year old's abdomen._

* * *

 _John pulled Sammy into his arms, trying to hide the blood from any that passed by. He headed up towards their motel room. Dean began going the opposite direction but was halted by a firm grip on his hair. Dean bit his lip to keep from whimpering. He knew better than to struggle. That only made Dad's grip tighter._

 _"What do you think you're doing?" John asked._

 _"I- I was just getting some ice for Sam-"_

 _"And get blood all over that ice? Do you want people to call the cops?"_

 _"No sir."_

 _"Really? 'Cause it seems like you're begging them to." John said, "Now Get. Inside."_

* * *

The memory ended suddenly, leaving Dean breathless.

"Just- back off." Dean said. Johnathan immediately did as he was told.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I REEEAALLLY liked writing this chapter. A lot. If you couldn't tell. Look forward to more insight into their childhood in the next chapter.**_


	13. Chapter 13

The intensity of the moment had passed, Johnathan slowly came forward.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

After a moment of hesitance, Dean nodded. Johnathan still felt Dean flinch against the touch, but it was much better than before. Johnathan pulled Dean's lean arm over his shoulders and pulled him up, surprised at the ease with which he did so. Dean was thin and a tad short, Johnathan knew that, but he looked heavier than he was, probably due to the tone of his muscles.

They made it the last few feet to the pump, and Johnathan quickly started pumping. Within a few seconds water came rolling out, and Dean stuck his entire head beneath it. After drinking his fill, he withdrew his head from the water and shook it to get rid of the left over droplets.

* * *

Dean's body relaxed the second his lips touched the water. He gulped it down, realizing just how thirsty he had been. Dehydration had been a big part of the problem.

He pulled back from the stream once his lungs started screaming for air. After his heavy breaths drifted back to normal ones, he felt alright. A little tired, but alright. He knew he should take it easy, relax a few minutes longer probably, just to make sure. But Dean was fairly certain now that the problem had been more the dehydration than the heat exhaustion.

He massaged the few cramps still left his muscles, but they dissipated quickly. He passively wondered what had caused the onslaught of memory that assaulted his mind, but decided that would be better dealt with later.

"You okay to stand?" Johnathan asked, hovering over him uncertainly.

"I'm good." Dean answered, "All I needed was a bit of water." A smile flicked across his face so quickly that Johnathan wondered if he had just imagined it. Dean stood up, shaking himself out just as he always did to help his mind take command and ensure that his body could follow those commands. After determining he was in working order once again, he turned back towards the field. After a few seconds, Dean realized Johnathan wasn't going to follow him.

"What are you waiting for?" Dean asked.

* * *

"You just passed out." Johnathan stated.

"Yeah," Dean said, "I thought we already covered that. Your brain moving a little slow, huh? Maybe we need to get _you_ out of the sun."

"You just passed out, and somehow, you seem to think that you're going right back out there to start working again."

"Problem?"

"You just passed out."

Dean nodded slowly, genuine concern lacing his features.

"Johnathan, you're not making much sense," Dean said, "You sure you're alright?"

"Am _I_ alright?!" Johnathan said in disbelief. Dean apparently wasn't catching Johnathan's tone, or was at least misinterpreting it.

"Uh... No, not by the sound of it, you're not." Dean said, taking a few steps closer, looking Johnathan in the eyes, searching for any evidence of head injury. "Mind trying to explain a little more clearly?"

"You just passed out from working too hard and now you want to back to doing what just caused you to pass out." Johnathan said, "That's got to be the stupidest idea I've ever heard."

"It's still got to be done." Dean said, "We're already behind schedule. Besides, I'm fine now. Come on."

"So you're not even going to tell Sonny what Peter did?"

"Wasn't planning on it." Dean shrugged.

"But we've got to do something!" Johnathan said, beginning to follow Dean back to the field. "He's got to have broken a billion laws just then."

"Sometimes you've got to fight your own demons." Dean said, "Besides, he's your brother. Surely you don't want him to get into any more trouble with the law than he already has."

"Yeah, but-" Johnathan was about to go on, but hesitated. "Did Sonny tell you?"

"No," Dean answered, "I just figured it out.

"How?"

"That whole taking the consequences for his mistakes stuff," Dean said, "No one'd take that crap from anyone but family. Close family at that."

There was a pause in the conversation, but eventually Johnathan spoke.

"He's my half brother." Johnathan admitted, "I love him to death, but he treats me like gum on the bottom of his shoe."

"Big brothers have a tendency to do that." Dean smirked, "Believe me, that's coming from one. We don't do it on purpose though."

"Are you kidding me?" Johnathan asked, "Having you as a brother? Sam's got to be the luckiest kid in the world."

"I wish." Dean answered quietly, "I haven't exactly provided adequately." Somehow Johnathan knew there was more to that response than he understood at the moment. There was another break in the conversation before Johnathan pulled it back to Peter.

"I just wish he wasn't such a jerk." he said.

"He'll just keep being one, so long as you keep taking responsibility for his mistakes." Dean said, "Don't let him walk all over you. He's never going to learn you do."

"So why won't you tell Sonny about what happened then?"

"I'm going to lay low, wait it out. Cats won't chase mice that don't run." Dean said, "Most people just stop after they realize they can't get to me."

"He's going to get you killed is what's going to happen." Johnathan said, "I don't want you or Sam to get hurt."

"We'll be fine, believe me," Dean said, "We've faced worse."

* * *

Dean and Johnathan's conversation turned to more normal subjects as they began working again.

"So why are you in here?" Johnathan asked, "You and Sam, you're not trouble makers, so what did you do?"

"Sammy didn't do anything." Dean defended, "He's just here because there wasn't a better option."

"Then what did you do?" Johnathan asked, "Don't worry, everybody here is in for something, even Sonny's an ex-con. I won't look at you any different, if that's what you're worried about."

"Theft." Dean answered, "I stole food."

"Oh." Johnathan bit his lip. The rest of the work day was spent in silence, broken only by Johnathan asking Dean if he was still feeling alright. They worked diligently, only stopping for the occasional sip of water or lunch.

Dean's mind wandered as they worked. Dean liked to think that Johnathan was a lot like Sam would be when he was older, if only he wasn't growing up in the world of hunting. Johnathan was smart, loyal, level headed (for the most part,) kind, selfless, and innocent. Just like Sam. Dean smiled at the thought.

Soon though, his mind began drifting again, bouncing to several different topics before settling on a slightly less pleasant one.

* * *

 _Dean's hands were slippery with blood and he anxiously watched as John patched Sam up, smoothly sliding the needle in and out of Sam's soft skin._

 _With the adrenaline now fading, Dean began to feel his exhaustion. His vision was coming back, little by little, but it was still pretty foggy and his eyes stung. Noticing that John was just about done stitching Sam up, Dean went to get the bandages from the first aid kit._

 _Tears perked in his eyes just at the pain of moving, and he gave a small gasp when he landed the wrong way on his foot._

 _"Dean?" John said, "Are you alright?"_

 _Knowing the answer John wanted, Dean began to nod, but the nod quickly turned to a frantic shake as black dots appeared before his eyes. He knew that those weren't supposed to be there. Dean stumbled, all sense of balance lost, but strong arms caught him._

 _"Easy there, tiger." John said, "Let me give you a hand." John nearly carried Dean over to the bed and sat him down before filling a bowl with water and grabbing a washrag._

 _"But Sam-" Dean protested, John cut him off._

 _"-Will be fine. His wound needs aired out before we put the bandage on anyway." John said, "Let's just focus on getting you taken care of. Give me a full report."_

 _Dean forced himself to locate the origins of the pain, sitting up straighter to do so._

 _"Uh- my head, my ribs, my- my ankle... maybe?" Dean struggled to contain the tears came. He had been able to ignore most of the pain before now, but thinking about it intensified it a thousand times over._

 _John sighed, stopping Dean._

 _"Alright, let's try this." John said, "What hurts?"_

 _Dean tried to answer, but only the most pathetic of whimpers came out._

 _"Everything?" John asked._

 _Dean nodded, curling in on himself slightly, hoping John didn't notice._

 _"Alright, that's alright." John said, placing a hand on Dean's arm, gently rubbing it. The same arm he had slammed Dean into the car with earlier._

 _He was trying to give comfort, but gave only fear._

* * *

"Dean!"

Dean blinked, focusing his eyes on the person in front of him.

"What?"

"You just sort of stopped." Johnathan said, "You alright?"

"Uh, yeah." Dean said, "Just thinking."

"Hm." Johnathan glanced out towards the field, "Well, it's a little early but we've filled our quota. We've gotten back on track with you here. I guess we just stop a little early today."

Dean nodded.

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

 _ **A/N: And here you go. More Dean stuff. The next chapter will be dedicated to those of who love little Sammy.**_


	14. Chapter 14

Sammy sat, petting the paint mare's soft mane. He talked animatedly to it, acting as though it were talking back.

"It seems he likes you, Sammy." Sonny said, as he walked into the stable.

Sam nodded contentedly, "They all do."

"I can see that." Sonny glanced at the horses around him, who all seemed strangely drawn to Sam, staring at him. "Is he your favorite?"

 _The kid's afraid of a rooster, but not a horse?_ Sonny thought.

Sam nodded, "He's the best, but don't tell the other ones."

"Hm. Maybe I can show you how to ride him sometime." Sonny said, looking up at the horse. It was awfully big for the small boy, but Sonny suspected he could work it out somehow.

Sam nodded enthusiastically. "What about Dean?"

"He can learn to ride too." Sonny said.

"Will he get to choose?"

Sonny nodded,"Why don't we guess which one he will choose?"

Sam gazed at the vast array of horses thoughtfully. They came in all different colors, breeds, sizes, personalities, and temperaments...

"He'll choose himself." Sam decided.

Sonny still pondered Sam's cryptic words hours later, trying to figure out what the ten year old had meant.

* * *

"Dean! Look at me!"

Dean just about had a heart attack when he saw his brother sitting bareback on a strong paint mare, but calmed considerably when he saw that Johnathan was standing next to him, lead rope in hand. Sam leaned over, flattening himself against the horse's body and wrapping his arms around her neck. His finger's dug affectionately into her mane.

"Your brother's a natural," Johnathan smiled, "who would have thought?"

 _Me._ Dean thought.

Sam had always had a thing for animals. Dean had too, when he was younger, but after about three years of asking for a puppy and getting turned down each time, he had resigned himself to the idea that he would never have a pet. It just wasn't the hunters way. Sam, however, never gave up. Every chance he got he was bringing home stray dogs, cats, and even mice and toads. Eventually after John had yelled at him enough, he had switched to bugs, which he could hide more easily. Dean knew about them, knew each of their names and personalities, Sam talked about them so much.

Dean never told their dad about the bugs. John had been concerned at one point, wondering if Sam was schizophrenic due to how much he was talking about people who didn't exist. Sam had never even met someone named "Diotimus." Dean later googled the names of the rest of Sam's bugs, only to find out that the names were those of important philosophers and scientists through out history. The kid was 7. Dean knew Sam was a genius. He was confident that if Sam ever got to take an intelligence test, it would show a genius level IQ _and_ EQ.

And Dean was jealous. Jealous, that Sam could find that level of stimulation, support, and care from insects when Dean struggled to get it from even his father. Even in his jealousy though, Dean was glad. Sam deserved it, and there wasn't a chance that Dean would deprive Sam of any comfort he could make for himself. So Dean lied. When John asked, Dean assured him that it was normal for boys Sam's age to have imaginary friends. Dean told him that it was temporary, and that Sam would grow out of it.

So Sam kept his bugs.

Some days, Dean still wondered what it would be like to have a pet. Whether it was a dog, cat, or even a fish didn't matter. The only requirement was that it would look back at him if he looked at it. That's all he wanted. It didn't have to play, didn't have to work, it just had to look into his eyes and remind him that he wasn't alone.

This time though, as Sam grinned down at him from the back of the horse, Dean felt himself grinning back up. He had something better than a pet. He had a brother. And Sammy, he was more than enough for Dean.

* * *

Sam hugged the horse. It was so soft and warm. The mane was a little frizzy right now, but that was nothing he couldn't fix. The horse smelled good too. Sorta like when Sam got left at the motel, and Dean came back after a long day of hunting with Dad. Sam smiled at the thought. When they came in, John always headed straight for the shower, and as soon as he was in. Dean just leaned against the wall and slid down into a sitting position.

Cue Sam, who crawled over to him, sliding under Dean's sweat soaked arm. He pulled him up, and tried to sit him back down in whatever chair there was in the room. Then he slid a glass of water into Dean's hand and told him to drink. Dean always stared at it for a second, before downing the whole cup. Sam supposed that Dean just didn't want to move when he stared at it for that long moment. He never knew the real reason, not that Dean would ever admit it to him anyway.

Sam released the horse and sat back up. He grinned at Dean, and to his pleasure, Dean smiled back. A real smile.

* * *

After supper, Dean worked with Sonny cleaning up the barn while the other boys sat inside relaxing. Sonny noticed Dean working quickly and efficiently. He got a lot done in a short amount of time. He always obeyed immediately when Sonny gave him a specific task.

The only time Dean seemed calm was when he was doing repetitive manual tasks that required limited thought. Some how, Sonny knew that this, working, was what the majority of Dean's life had been composed of.

"You help your old man with work a lot?" Sonny asked, trying to make conversation. He wanted to know more about the boys dad, but didn't want to hit any sore topics.

It took only a second and it seemed as though a switch had been flipped in Dean's mind, activating higher levels of it necessary to respond, rather than just take orders.

"Yeah." Dean paused only a second before continuing to work. "All the time."

"What'd he have you doing?"

"Anything that needed done." Dean said, "Anything I could do. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Sonny shifted his weight as he moved a feed sack to the other side of the barn. "You're a hard worker. Wondered if you got it from your dad."

"Probably." Dean agreed, "His work, it's pretty high on the priority list."

"What about you?"

"I don't think I understand the question."

"What's tops on your priority list?"

"Sam." Dean said, "And Dad."

"Anything else?" Sonny asked.

"No more room."

* * *

Sam frowned at Jude, glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

"I said move." Sam repeated, "I can't see the TV."

"Why don't you move?" Jude shot back.

"Because I was here first." Sam answered, "You just sat right in front of me."

"Um, you just came here a few days ago, I've been here for over a year."

"What does seniority matter?" Sam asked, "All you have to do is move like three feet!"

It was at this time Peter decided to get into it.

"Seriously? _Seniority_?" Peter said, "You're ten. What are you, some sort of bookworm freak?"

Jude nodded, reflecting Peter's view. The conversation fizzled out, but Jude kept staring at Sam as though he were from a different planet.

Sam only hoped they didn't see tears gathering in his eyes. It was close, but Sam didn't let them fall. He refused to.

These guys weren't worth it.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Okay, so the chapter was about Sam, but from Dean's perspective mostly. It wasn't what I had planned, but I think it turned out alright, and you still got the Sam feels.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_Slashing pain ripped at his back and his body was ached with exhaustion. His head had a dull throb that changed to a sharper strike every time he moved it. His limbs felt so heavy, his eyes, they were lead. Then he heard Sam's scream. And suddenly, nothing else mattered._

 _The sting of pain was replaced with a flash of adrenaline and his dazed thoughts became crystal clear. Was Dad with Sam? If so, why wasn't he doing anything? Was he hurt, or worse? Was Sam headed that way too. Dean knew his consciousness had wavered there for a while... How much time had passed? Where exactly was he? Or, more importantly, how could he get to Sam?_

 _He struggled with the ropes that bound both his wrists and his ankles, freeing himself after twisting them just the right way. He slowly stood, ignoring the brief flash of pain that came with it. Dean walked the perimeter of the room, checking for any means of escape. There was a door, but it was locked. Dean pressed his ear against it, straining to make out any noises that could hint to him what was on the other side._

 _A smirk arrived on Dean's face as he realized that his captors hadn't taken away the small, flat case hidden in the sole of his shoe. Dean tugged his shoe off and extracted his lock-picking set. He deftly slid the pick into the lock and finished within minutes._

 _Dean pushed the door open, peaking around it. He heard another scream. From that moment on, his caution began diminishing as his need to find Sam and Dad grew. He ran down the long hallways, hoping to find the room sourcing the screams. Eventually he did. There was no door, just a door way, and Dean pressed himself to the wall, sliding closer to it. He listened closely. All he heard was Sam's sobs and repetitive whispering that Dean couldn't quite make out._

 _Hearing nothing else in the room, Dean began to round the corner. Then he felt hands tighting around his neck. Dean started slamming his elbows into his attacker's ribs as quickly as he could, but still the grip on his throat was steady. He felt the strength leave his limbs. His efforts to get away slowed, then eventually just stopped as he choked against the hold. Dean was left dangling from the creature's grasp, small, desperate gasps being his only feeble attempt at getting air._

 _The monster threw him down to the ground, inside the room, rolling to a stop only a few feet away from his teary faced brother. In his fear, Sam had tucked himself in their father's limp arms, Sam only too aware of the pool of blood around them._

 _Dean crawled closer, pressing his fingers to his father's neck._

 _There was no pulse._

 _A shot rang out and Sam's small face paled as his father's blood mixed with his own._

 _Then the choking hands came back, dragging him away from Sammy's too still body..._

 _And Dean couldn't breathe._

* * *

Dean gasped, shooting up to a sitting position. Immediately, he noticed the dark figure above him. Dean scrambled away, his gaze jumping to Sam, but felt the wall against his back. His breaths came short and quick, his throat feeling tight. His hands rose to loosen a restraint that wasn't there.

"Hey, it's alright. Calm down, it was just a dream."

Somehow even Sonny's muttering of comfort felt threatening. Dean pressed his palms to his ears, trying to block out the screams that echoed through his mind.

Sonny moved to put a hand on him, but Dean pulled away. Tears pricked in his eyes, and he pressed his head into the pillow, trying to stop the nightmare that refused to end. Being awake meant nothing. It didn't stop, and somehow, he knew it never would.

* * *

Sonny stood there, at a loss of how to comfort the shaking boy. He was awake, yet somehow, Sonny couldn't get him out of the dream. One thing he knew for sure though, he had to get Dean calmed down. The kid wasn't far from hyperventilation.

"Easy... Deep breaths." Sonny said. Making sure that both of his hands stayed with in Dean's eye sight, Sonny slowly rested a hand on Dean's shoulder and began rubbing gently. Sonny felt the boy's body tense beneath his hand, wracking itself with silent sobs. At least he'd begun breathing normally.

"It's alright, just a dream, just a dream." Sonny repeated.

As time went on, Sonny realized that these weren't tears of fear. They were tears of grief. The boy was grieving.

Minutes went by and the silent sobs were constant. Until they stopped. Suddenly, the only trace left of the moment were the tear tracks, and even those vanished with one swipe of Dean's hand.

Sonny's face twisted with confusion as Dean's went neutral, no, not neutral. More... emotionless. Neutrality is a balance of all emotion, but when Sonny saw Dean's eyes, there was nothing.

For the first time since Sonny's entrance, Dean's eyes met his. The silence became rather awkward after a few moments, neither knowing what to say about what just happened.

Dean glanced at Sonny's hand which was still on his shoulder and shrank away from it. More out of discomfort than fear though.

Sonny decided to count it as a win.

"So uh..." Sonny said awkwardly, "nightmare?"

Dean just glanced away, looking over at Sam who had managed to sleep through the whole thing.

"About Sam." Sonny realized.

Dean finally spoke, "And Dad."

"Oh..." Sonny wasn't sure where to go from there, so he just left the space silent.

"They died." Dean said this so factually that Sonny had to look over at Sam, checking for the up and down movements of his chest. Dean said it as though it had actually happened.

"Oh, do you get this dream a lot?"

"Not exactly, but different variations." Dean answered. There was a moment of silence, but then Sonny spoke again.

"How'd they die?"

"Dad was stabbed, Sammy was shot." Again Dean said it so nonchalantly that you could have believed that it was some random person across the world that had died. There was no trace of his earlier grief.

"By who?"

Suddenly Dean's face went dark, "By bad things. Monsters."

It was weird, everything he'd seen from this kid so far (with the exception of telling Sonny the bruises on his arms came from werewolves) seemed so logical, based only on fact. Now the kid was trying to tell him that monsters killed his dad and brother in his dream. It's just not what Sonny had been expecting.

"Well, it's a good thing monsters aren't real then." Sonny said, raising his eyebrows, trying to lift the kid's spirits. Instead, Dean glanced away shaking his head, a smirk on his lips.

"What?" Sonny asked, sensing Dean's air of 'I know something you don't.'

"Nothing." Dean said, a short chuckle escaping him. "It's just funny."

"What's funny?"

"Nothing," Dean said, "It doesn't matter."

* * *

Eventually both got tired of the awkwardness and went back to bed. Dean slept easily for the rest of the night, but Sonny's mind was wracked with thoughts.

What was the deal with these two boys? What was it about them that made Sonny feel like he was stupid, like there was something going on he was completely oblivious to?

And Dean, he'd been so out of it even though he was awake. Even afterwards going on about "bad things" and "monsters,"... Was what ever home life he'd had getting to him? What ever was going on with him, it wasn't normal. After this episode, after Dean's changing from grieving to completely emotionless in less than a second, Sonny began to fear for the boy's mental health. Sonny remembered Johnathan's response to questions about Dean's work ethic. Johnathan said that he worked impossibly hard, but after awhile he'd get into a 'groove'. Working constantly, but not responding when talked to. Johnathan described it as Dean being locked inside his mind.

Sonny sighed. It was all too schizophrenic for his liking. That being said, Sonny knew very little about psychology and neurological disorders. All he knew for sure was that the Winchester boys were definitely different from any of the other boys he'd raised.

Sonny's thoughts shifted to Johnathan. He seemed to be getting along with both Sam and Dean, then again, he got along with almost everyone. He was a good kid, smart, caring, calm, definitely a peacemaker. It almost seemed like yesterday that he'd walked through that door, Peter in handcuffs following behind him as he struggled with the officer, yelling and fighting. The situation was similar to the way the Winchesters had entered. Dean had been calmer than Peter, but just as protective of his brother.

Johnathan and Peter had come to live with Sonny after a case of domestic abuse. Johnathan was young enough that he'd mostly blocked it all out, but Peter was old enough to remember. Sonny found that because Johnathan was easygoing and was easy to talk to, he could use that factor to help get insight into the other boys' minds.

While Johnathan was sweet and peaceful, Peter was anything but. Sonny began to piece together Peter's confusing mind after awhile, learning that the boy had used physical force repeatedly to protect his mother from their father, thus causing his propensity towards violence and threatening statements. Sonny had never seen Peter lay a hand to Johnathan, but he'd laid threats on thick before, though Sonny hadn't seen him do it in a long while.

Sonny determined after awhile that Peter's threats were learned behavior from his father. He'd act on them unless it was Johnathan he'd threatened, in which case, the kid always ended up with another warning. Peter... He was a handful, but Sonny saw potential in him. Sonny knew he could be more. All it would take was time.

* * *

 _ **A/N: And here we get a little more of Peter and Johnathan's background, as well as Sonny's thoughts towards them.**_


	16. Chapter 16

They'd been at Sonny's for a week and a half now.

* * *

Dean woke up slowly. He felt weird. Usually, he was completely awake as soon as he opened his eyes, but today... Today he felt sort of sluggish. His body was relaxed beneath the soft blankets and above the comfortable bed. He felt calm, content. He didn't want to move, instead, he wanted to go back to sleep. After lazily flopping his arm to the side, he felt a small, cozy lump next to him. He glanced down to see Sam curled at his side, apparently having decided that being in the same room as his brother wasn't enough. Dean frowned, his slow mind taking a moment to work out why things didn't seem right. Everything just felt off.

 _Why don't I remember Sam crawling next to me? I always know... Always..._

Dean sat straight up, sliding out from beneath Sam and setting his feet on the floor. He stood up and immediately began to pace the room. His mind cleared quickly after he stood, but it took a few seconds.

 _Someone must have drugged me. I never sleep that soundly. Sam only crawls over when he has a nightmare, and there's no way I could have missed that..._

He stopped pacing for a moment, noticing that his heart was pounding and his breaths came quick. Further evidence that someone had drugged him.

 _Calm down, calm down..._ Dean reminded himself. Dean dressed himself, and was slipping on his shoes when Sam stirred.

"Time to get up, bud." Dean said, "We've got to go."

"Dee?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't wanna."

Dean froze, shoe laces still in his hands. Fear crept up his spine, and a chill ran throughout his body, leaving him shivering.

 _So much is wrong with this... So much..._

"Dean?" Sammy frowned, "You okay?"

Dean didn't answer, just frozen, consumed by his thoughts.

 _I don't want to leave either... "What's wrong with you?!"_ John's voice appeared in Dean's head. _"Wise up, you idiot! Can't you see what's going on? Sonny's brainwashing you, and like the ignorant, trusting dullard you are, you're walking right into it! Pay attention! I trained you better than this! Don't let me down. Promise me you won't let you or Sam get hurt. I don't know what I'd do without you...Please... Dean... Snap out of it..."_

* * *

"Dean?" Sam slithered his way out of bed, and plopped himself down directly in front of his unresponsive brother. Dean just stared at the floor, as though held in place by a demon. After several more attempts to elicit a response from his brother, mostly waving his hands in front of his face and making goofy expressions, Sam knew something was very wrong. Dean would never play this long if he were trying to trick Sam.

Sam wondered what he should do, under normal circumstances, he would have called Uncle Bobby, or woken Dad, if he was there. This was completely different though. Sam knew he couldn't do either of those things, so after a bit of thinking, he did the only sensible thing he could think of.

* * *

Sonny heard the patter of feet on the floor and felt his bed shift, creaking a bit as it did so.

 _Probably Jude with a nightmare or something._ Sonny mentally sighed, really not wanting to deal with that so early in this peaceful morning. He decided to pretend sleep for as long as possible before he was 'awoken.' Maybe Jude would just decide to go back to his bedroom.

After five minutes had passed, however, Sonny was suspicious. He became overly aware of the sharp stare piercing the back of his head. He lifted an eyelid, only to see the wrong person gazing back on him.

"Sam?" Sonny said, sitting up, "What are you back here for?"

"Dean is acting weird." Sam said, "He won't talk to me."

"You sure he's not just asleep?"

"His eyes are open." Sam responded, "He's been tying his shoes for 10 minutes. He's not moving."

That got Sonny moving.

"And that is definitely _not_ normal..." Sonny pulled a tee shirt over his head and shrugged on a pair of jeans, figuring he wouldn't be going back to bed after this.

Upon entering the boys' bedroom, he immediately spotted Dean, kneeling beside the bed, his fingers hovering over his shoes, laces still in his hands.

"How long did you say he'd been like this?" Sonny asked, carefully repositioning Dean's chin to get a better look at his eyes.

"About fifteen minutes by now, probably." Sam said, slowly sliding down next to Sonny.

"Has he ever done this before?" Sonny asked.

"Sorta."

"What do you mean 'sorta'?" Sonny asked.

"He does something similar after Dad stops yelling sometimes..."

 _Stress response?_ Sonny thought, _He can't take it, so he just stops? Shuts down?_

Sonny's pondering was disrupted by Sam's soft voice.

"He'll be alright." Sam said, "He always is... But I'm worried."

"It's alright, kiddo." Sonny said, "Hand me that flashlight over there?"

Sam immediately did as he was told, and Sonny shone the light in Dean's eyes in an attempt to see just how out of it Dean was.

Dean's pupils constricted and he blinked, but otherwise, there was no reaction.

"Okay, okay..." Sonny was at a loss. He'd never had anyone do this before. He'd had kids with problems sure, almost every kid he got had anger issues, but this... Catatonia... This was _completely_ new.

Is he supposed to call an ambulance? Take Dean to the doctor? Emergency room? Should Sonny just wait for him to come out of it on his own? Turns out, Sonny didn't have to decide.

* * *

Sam struggled to replace the flash light on the top shelf of the bookcase. It was so far above his head though, that he couldn't see what he was doing. He knocked off a couple books that fell to the floor with a solid thump.

"Sam."

* * *

Dean's head shot up, alertness instantly lighting his eyes. His muscles constricted, ready for action. His eyes quickly scoped the room, landing on Sonny, after realizing there was no danger to Sam.

"Dean, you alright?"

"Yeah, why?" Dean asked, looking as though he honestly didn't know why Sonny would be concerned.

"You were... uh..." Sonny couldn't find words.

"No reason." Sam said, taking his usual spot beside his brother. "Mr. Sonny's just checking on us." The strength of the boy's glare dared him to say different.

Only then did Sonny see some evidence of remembrance in Dean's eyes. But with that remembrance, the mood was darkened, the moist feeling of suspicion tainting it.

"Uh, yeah. Just heard something weird coming from this direction," Sonny said, warily looking at Sam who was acting quite threateningly. "Thought I would check on you two. Must have been elsewhere."

The suspicion didn't leave, instead growing stronger. Both boys were staring at him now. One daring him to lie again, the other to speak the truth. Somehow he knew both were bad choices.

Sonny opted out of speaking, instead just returning their stare.

It was very uncomfortable for Sonny, causing him to eventually glance away.

"If you boys'll get ready, I'm on my way to make breakfast." Sonny eventually said.

"Sounds good." Both boys spoke at the same time.

Sonny turned to leave, purposefully taking his time on the stairs. For whatever reason, he felt the need to jump down them instead.

Once in the kitchen, Sonny began to relax and ponder what had just happened. He was willing to admit to himself at this point that he was seriously freaked out by that whole episode. Dean's temporary catatonia, then Sam somehow staring at him long enough that he woke up, then Dean coming out of the stupor so quickly that it left Sonny's mind reeling. Then Sam's glare. A ten year old should _not_ possess a glare that strong.

And this whole thing, it didn't really scare Sam all that much, he acted as though it was normal. Or maybe not normal, but at least something that had happened before.

But then there was the darkness. The darkness that filled the room, settling on him, smothering him in fear. Something was up with Sam and Dean, it was more than the obvious, it had to be. Something was going on. Something big.

Sonny felt almost sick from the stress the darkness had played upon him. Looking down, he noticed his hands shaking.

 _What just happened?_

* * *

 ** _A/N: I have no idea what that was... Wow, I even freaked myself out. Now Sonny's just as wary of Sam and Dean as they are of him. And what happened anyway? What was that? Just a tense situation, or was there more at work?_**


	17. Chapter 17

**READ THIS! _One of my reviewers told me that you guys hadn't gotten the message for the last update of this story, so if the starting point seems a little off, it's probably because you didn't get the message, and didn't get to read the last chapter. It's a SUPER important one. The beginning of this chapter won't make any sense without it._**

* * *

Dean and Sam stared at the door as Sonny closed it. Sam immediately launched himself into Dean's arms.

"You did the thing again." Sam whispered, "You promised you wouldn't."

"I- I-" Dean found himself without an answer, "I didn't mean to. I don't do that on purpose, you know that."

"I had to get Sonny." Sam said, "Dad isn't here, not Sonny or Pastor Jim either. I know Sam."

"I know, Sam." Dean said, gently rubbing his little brother's back. "Just next time, if something like that happens again, don't tell anyone. I'll be alright, I always am, remember."

"And 'cause you're alright, I've got to be, right?"

"Exactly." There was a few minutes silence as the boys got dressed.

"Why don't you want Sonny to know?" Sam said, "He just tried to help?"

"Sammy, I want you to listen to me," Dean knelt to Sam's level, "When he left the room he looked pretty freaked out, right?"

"Yeah..."

"We don't want him to do that." Dean said, "We've got to pretend to be as normal as possible while we're here. Something about Dad or his job comes up, I need you to keep your mouth shut."

"But Sonny's nice..."

"Yeah, he is kiddo," Dean smiled, "But we don't know him yet. Not really, and he definitely doesn't know us."

"Hm." Sam pulled his shoes on. "But you told him a werewolf made the scratches on your arm?"

"Only because I knew he'd never believe it." Dean said, "And I might do stuff like that, things to convince him that anything we slip up and say is sarcasm or a joke. Okay? If he has questions, just tell him to ask me."

"Okay." Sam sighed, "I just wish we could tell him."

"I know, Sam."

* * *

Sonny saw the ghost of tears on Sam's cheeks as he watched him hop down the stairs. There was no semblance of a frown or a glare as there had been before, instead, nothing but a grin and a laugh.

"What's for breakfast Mr. Sonny?" Sam asked, sliding onto a stool at the breakfast bar while Dean moved to help Sonny.

"Pancakes are the plan, little man." Sonny said, "Sound good?"

Sam nodded eagerly, then paused as he saw one of the ingredients sitting on the counter. His eyes widened, "With _blueberries_?" He said the word with a reverence that the other boys rarely used for the small blue fruit.

"I guess you like that idea, huh?" Sonny said, "What do you think, Dean? Want some blueberries in yours?"

"Yes, sir." Dean said, "Please."

"Alrighty then." Sonny said, "Sammy, sorry, I mean _Sam_ , why don'tcha go wake the other boys while Dean and I get these pancakes cookin'?"

"Okay." Sam nodded, sliding off the tall stool and walking towards the stairs.

* * *

Sonny bit his lip, tempted to bring up what had happened earlier, but knowing he shouldn't. Dean would tell in his own time, because Sonny wasn't about to force him into anything. Not after all he'd been through. Instead, Sonny decided on a nice, safe, discussion topic.

"There's a calendar over there, why don't you go write you and Sam's B-days on it. There wasn't a lot of paper work that came with you two, so I couldn't put it on myself. I just want to make sure we don't miss it."

Dean nodded, grabbing an ink pen from the counter. He carefully flipped through the calendar then scribbled Sam's name in the May 2nd box before continuing to flip through the calendar. After nearly a minute of doing this, Sonny heard the flipping stop.

* * *

 _December 2nd?_

 _No, that's not it._

 _June 17th, no, that's not right either. That was the one I had last time I had to go to the emergency room... Dad wouldn't have used my real one there. September 14th? No, that's not right either, that was the time I broke my arm... Uh... February 23rd?_

 _March 26th?_

 _August 3rd?_

 _November 28th?_

Dean's mind spun with dates, all ones that he'd used before for various reasons, doctor's visits, mostly. Since Mom died, they hadn't really celebrated birthdays all that much... Well, they had Sammy's, but only because Dean insisted upon it. He hadn't given much thought to his own.

His fingers stilled, hovering just centimeters off the paper.

 _What day was I born?_ Dean mentally interrogated himself, before coming to the conclusion.

 _I don't know._

 _I don't know my birthday._

* * *

"Dean?"

Dean's head shot up, staring up at Sonny with fleeting panic. As soon as it came, it was lost, replaced with a look of hesitance, of unsureness.

"What's wrong?" Sonny asked.

"I- I uh-" Dean gripped the pen tighter and began more desperately searching through the calendar.

"Dean," Sonny gently took Dean's hands, pulling them away from the calendar, noticing that Dean had ripped a few pages in his haste to search it. "Dean, what's wrong?"

"I don't know." Dean muttered, quickly pulling his hands from Sonny's grip and repetitively running them through his hair, rubbing his eyes and forehead in between.

"You don't know what's wrong?"

"No, I don't _know."_ Dean stated, "I don't know my birthday. I- I don't remember."

Sonny felt his heart being torn in half, not with the cold, mechanical quality of sharp, shining scalpel, but with the blazing fury of an serrated hunting knife, rusting at the edges. His pain for the boy was rage. Not at the boy, but at the man who let his son forget the day he was _born_.

When Dean looked up at him again, it wasn't with the cool, untrusting exterior he usually had. It was raw. Fear and confusion were both clearly visible in the boy's eyes, and he looked so much _younger_ than his years.

Without a thought, Sonny enveloped him in a hug, squeezing him tightly.

* * *

Dean felt warmth creep around his shoulders, and in need of comfort, he leaned towards it, closing his eyes. But then it happened.

 _A scream, louder than he'd ever heard it, emitting from his mother's mouth._

 _"Mom?" He'd said, still in unbelief of his reality._

 _"Dean! Help me!" Mary sobbed, desperately reaching out for Dean's_ _comfort. Dean closed the distance in a single step that felt like thousands. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, warmth surrounding him as he squeezed tightly enough that he knew he must be breaking ribs. But Mom didn't care, so neither did Dean._

 _"It's going to be alright, Mom. We're going to get you out of here." Dean said, "Sammy, he's on his way. So is Dad. They're coming. We're going to get you back."_

 _Then he heard his father's yell._

 _"Dean! What are you doing?! Get away from there!"_

 _"What are you talking about?! It's Mom! Dad, we can get her back!" Dean grinned at his father before looking back at his mother's eyes. "I've missed you, Mom." Dean entwined his hand in hers, taking in her soft skin, and sweet smile. Gosh, he'd missed her._

 _"Dean..." Dean's head shot away at the sound of his father's voice breaking. "It's not her. It's just a monster, Dean. Just a monster pretending to be someone you love."_

 _Dean felt his breath leave him._

 _"What-" It was a strangled gasp like choke, "What are you talking about? It's- It's Mom..."_

 _"Look at her closer, Dean." John said, "Please."_

 _Tears streamed down John's face, and Sammy took his hand._

 _"Please Dean..."_

 _Dean looked up into his mother's eyes. Her image flickered as his hope did._

 _"You're not real." Dean said this, not with fear or anger, but with disappointment. "Are you?"_

 _"What are you talking about?" Mary said, her image flickering even more now. "Of course I am, I'm real to you, Dean. Isn't that good enough?"_

 _"Sammy can't see you?" Dean asked, glancing back at his brother._

 _"Well... No, I guess not."_

 _"Why not?"_

 _"Only the worthy, Dean, can see me." Mary said, with a sad smile. "I guess he doesn't deserve it yet."_

 _"Then I don't deserve to either." Dean said, hugging what he now knew to be a monster. "Goodbye, Mom."_

 _A shot rang out._

 _Dean dropped the smoking pistol, watching his mother's face twist into a scream, before being engulfed by flames._

 _"I love you." Dean whispered._

 _Arms surrounded him once again, his father's arms, and Dean Winchester cried._

* * *

Dean gasped.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Woah. Just woah. Even that was a little mean by my standards... Dean actually thought it was his mom... Wow... Gosh, that's got to hurt... He thought they could get her back. He was so hopeful, and then... bam. Wow. My heart is in shreds.**_


	18. Chapter 18

Sonny felt Dean lean into his hug, but then tense only moments later, pushing away from him. Dean scrambled back from Sonny, his breathing erratic and eyes wild.

"Dean, Dean, what's wrong?" Sonny asked, every muscle in his body flinched towards Dean, wanting to hug the kid again, but knowing it would only make it worse.

Dean swallowed as his breaths slowly calmed, and his heart stopped its hammering.

"Just- Just back off."

* * *

Dean closed his eyes, steeling his mind against the unwanted memories that still flashed before his eyes. They never figured out what they had been facing, never learned what monster could be that cruel, that... convincing. Dean could still feel his mother's skin beneath his fingertips.

 _But that's gone._ Dean thought, _Mom, she's gone. There's nothing I can do to get her back. So just- stop._

His eyes slowly reopened, steady, and seeing. He looked up at Sonny, eyes flickered down to the floor for only a moment before returning to Sonny's eyes.

"Dean, listen, I don't know what's going on... but. I want to help you." Sonny said, "Everything I try to do... it just makes it worse. Can you explain what you need? I'm at a loss, Dean, I really am. How can I help you?"

"Well you can cut the chick-flick moment for one." Dean smirked, refusing to let his mind return to the vulnerable mood that Sonny's question was pushing him towards. _He_ was stronger than his _mind._

Dean let his thoughts revel around him, becoming brighter, harder than they had been before.

 _This is real. This is now. And that's all that will ever matter._

A power flooded through him, not unfamiliar, as he regained strength of will. Sam's here. Sam's the point. What Dean needs... That can wait for later. Or for never.

Dean switched his mind off for a moment, going on auto pilot.

Gosh, how he missed this, just being able to separate himself from the world, to trap himself in his mind. To let what happens happen. But he couldn't do it, not here at least. Fighting was so engrained in his mind that he could do it while sleeping, but interacting with people, being called by his own name, he couldn't do it. It was simply too much.

Being with Sonny... it was... it was a balance. He had to be himself, enough not to cause suspicion. He had to act normal, but- then all of it would just come crashing back and-

* * *

One moment Dean was talking, chatting nonchalantly, and the next his head jerked down and to the left, his eyes squeezing shut. And then he was back. Acting as though it had never happened.

Sonny was thoroughly freaked out.

* * *

Breakfast came and went, and the boys headed out to work.

Sam happily clucked back at the chickens, doing his best to imitate them as he collected eggs and spread feed across the ground. After finishing that task, Sam began helping Sonny clean up some feed that Jonathan had spilled earlier while taking care of the horses earlier this morning.

As they worked, Sonny noticed Sam quietly muttering to himself. After a moment of listening carefully, Sonny realized that Sam was telling himself a story, entertaining himself as he worked. It was quite creative, Sonny'd never heard of aliens, robots, tigers, vampires, werewolf, and something called gallus gallus domesticus in the same story before. Tossed in here and there throughout the story were a few strange words that if Sonny wasn't mistaken, were spoken in latin.

 _These boys never cease to confuse me._ Sonny thought.

The stories though, they were the stories of a little boy with a big brain and a big heart. The stories of a boy who had few things to entertain him, so he just came up with them himself. The stories of a boy who had spent much of his life trapped with nothing to do.

Sonny felt a gust of wind, and with it came the thought that the summer was coming to an end. School would be starting soon, and Sonny... He just wasn't sure if the boys would be ready for something like that. Sam, maybe, that's if they could get a few creepy habits under control, but Dean... Something told Sonny that Dean was messed up in a way that it might take awhile to fix. Meantime, Sonny'd get things set up so that they could go if they were ready. If not, then he'd just keep them at home awhile longer, work on things with them. But first, he had to get to know them. To understand them and what they'd been through. That thought in mind, Sonny glanced over at Sam.

"Where all have you been?" Sonny asked.

"Everywhere." Sam answered, "Why?" Sonny smiled. Sam's version of _Why?_ was so much more innocent than Dean's. Dean's was suspicious, as though Sonny were digging into his business, which he was, but still. Sam was simply curious as to why he wanted to know.

"Just wondering." Sonny shrugged, "I guess that means you're in the car a lot."

"Yeah." Sam nodded, "It gets boring sometimes, especially when Dean sits in the front with Dad."

"What do you do?"

"Usually I read, or if I don't have a book I just think or make up stories." Sam answered, "Sometimes Dad teaches us stuff too."

"What sort of stuff?"

"All sorts. Once he told us about the Anglo-Saxon Heptarchy and how it became the Kingdom of England."

Sonny just stared for a moment.

"You know, Wessex, Essex, Sussex, East Anglia, Kent," Sam bit his lip, trying to remember the last two, "and Mercia. Oh, and Northumbria. I always forget about that one."

"What else has he taught you?"

"Well," Sam said, "Another time he told us about why water gets hard when it freezes, and another time he explained to us how to figure out if someone is lying. He also told me about atoms, protons, neutrons, and electrons, isotopes, and nuclear decay. Oh, and he's teaching Dean how to do mechanic work and fix cars."

 _Turns out the Winchester Daddy's got a brain cell or two to him._ Sonny thought.

"He sounds like a pretty smart guy."

"He is." Sam nodded, "Very smart. Dean says I'm smarter though."

"I'm sure you are kiddo." Sonny chuckled, "What about Dean? He seems like a smart boy."

"Of course he is. Everyone is smart."

"How do you figure?" Sonny asked.

"Well," Sam said, biting his lip as he thought of a way to explain his thoughts. "Everyone is super smart, some just haven't gotten a chance to prove it yet. Not to themselves, at least."

 _Deep thoughts for a kid... Or adult..._

"You think a lot," Sonny said, "Don't ya?"

Sam shrugged bashfully, "I guess, I mean- I have to. I'd go crazy if I didn't."

"Do you like being in the car all the time?" Sonny asked.

"Not really..." Sam answered, hesitantly, as though he were revealing a secret. "But that's alright, because I'm with Dean and Dad, and they're all I need."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Sorry, that it's been awhile. I've been busy. I just got back from JCLC, which is basically one week of military boot camp. It was very interesting, and I enjoyed it.**_


	19. Chapter 19

Dean felt sick to his stomach as he watched the rows of hay dwindle. Just another couple days and there'd be no more to stack.

When it was all gone, Dean was positive he would lose his sanity. The work let his mind go numb, sort of like hunting did. It was different, not quite as good, but still tolerable. Once again, he missed the sting of pain and the feeling of limbs heavy with exhaustion.

Being here, it was simply too easy.

Dean's nervous energy gradually grew until he could hardly sit down, and when he did, he was always tapping his fingers or bouncing his knee. His mind moved quickly, never resting for a moment and his thoughts scattered. Over the next few days, he lost the ability to sleep. At least, not as well as he had been.

* * *

Sonny watched as Dean and the other boys worked, still wondering about school. Should he approach the boy with the subject yet? Was it still too soon?

He looked more normal now, and he was acting relatively normally from what he'd seen. Granted, he was jumpier and more active than the active kid. Sam, on the other hand, was the exact opposite, becoming less jumpy and calmer as he got used to the idea of staying here.

Well, he was going to have to bring up the subject someday.

"Sam, Dean, come inside a minute." Sonny said, "I need to talk to you both."

Dean immediately dropped what he was doing and came, while Sam quickly finished up before coming.

They all moved to the kitchen table.

Dean shifted uncomfortably under Sonny's gaze.

"You know what, Sam, let me talk to Dean for a minute." Sonny said, "I'll call you back in here in a bit, just stay inside."

"Okay, Mr. Sonny!" Sam nodded cheerfully. Dean's eyes followed him as he disappeared up the stairs.

There was a moment of silence, Sonny just looking at Dean. Looking at the boy, and wondering if he could handle this yet.

"School starts in late August." Sonny said.

Dean nodded.

"Sam's more than ready to go." Sonny said, "I've heard him getting excited about it. Scholarly little critter, ain't he?"

"Yes sir." Dean said.

"I guess my question is, do you want to try it, or do you need some more time to adjust?" Sonny asked, "I can home-school you for the first couple months if you need it. It's no problem, I've done it with some of the other boys before."

"But Sammy's going?" Dean asked.

"If the kid wants to learn, I'm not gonna stop him." Sonny shrugged, "That'll make him the first kid around here that actually _wants_ to go to school."

"If he goes, I go." Dean said.

"You sure you'll be alright?" Sonny asked, "A lot's been going on, Dean. You and Sam, you've been through a lot lately. Nobody's gonna shame you if you need sometime to get your footing."

"I'll be fine. Besides," Dean said, "Sam's gonna need me."

"Why is that?"

"Sam's really nice." Dean said, "Too nice."

"People take advantage of that?"

After a moment's hesitation, Dean nodded.

"What happens?"

"They ask for help with homework, Sam likes it well enough that he accidentally does it for them." Dean said, "They figure that out, and then he's suddenly doing two other kid's homework without even knowing it. Then when he realizes what they're doing, he gets angry. Bites off more than he can chew and... It doesn't- it doesn't end well."

"For you or for him?"

Dean frowned, wary confusion spreading on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing that can't be discussed later." Sonny answered, deciding to save this conversation for a rainy day. "Anyway, we're getting off track."

Dean nodded, mind rerouting itself back on track.

"I'm going to get you two in for some academic testing."

"But didn't our grades carry over?"

"Yeah..." Sonny nodded, rubbing his chin. He didn't say any more, causing Dean to prompt him.

"Then why...?"

"Something tells me that those grades of yours have more to do with absences, and less to do with lack of intelligence." Sonny said, "What do you think?"

Sonny was about to sob at the look that came over Dean's face. Confusion, at first, but then understanding dawned, and along with it, the slightest bit of hope.

"I've never thought of it like that..." Dean said, "I just thought- Well, Dad said I'm just sort of slow when it comes to academia. He always told me that I just need to work harder. He told me that I'm more built for hu-" Dean hesitated, then proceeded carefully, "For other things, rather than school."

"Hm, well," Sonny said, "I see what your Dad was gettin' at, and I'm sure that's the deal with some kids, but I think you'll have a pretty sharp noggin' if you get chance enough to use it."

"Really?"

"Bet you anything." Sonny nodded, then, seeing the smirk on Dean's face, added, "Not literally, Dean."

There was a moment of silence as both processed the events.

"You think you'll be alright?" Sonny asked.

Dean just nodded.

* * *

He'd be alright. Surely he'd be alright. Dean knew this. He'd changed schools a hundred times, almost literally. It didn't even bother him anymore.

Then why was it, that his stomach was in knots and he felt like throwing up. His head and heart pounded tightly in unison, and he could feel acid burning at the back of his throat, threatening to shoot out of his mouth.

Dean tried to redirect his thoughts.

Gosh, he wanted to kill something. Strangle it, electrocute it, burn it, bleed it out, Dean didn't care. That fact was disgusting, disturbing, and simply just wrong, and he knew it. Sort of. Somewhere along the road, he had pushed that fact to the back of his mind. He ached for the thrill of the chase, for the pain, and for the satisfaction that came as he watched the light leave a monster's eyes. It would never hurt anyone again.

This thought distracted him for a moment, but his mind quickly returned to his stomach, which was gurgling stronger than before. What was wrong with him?

It was then he noticed for the first time that Sonny had called Sam into the room, and was speaking to him on the same subject. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention.

* * *

 **A/N: I am sooo sorry that it took me so long to update this. I thought I would have more time over the summer to write, but it turns out I had less. I can't even describe how crazy this summer's been. It's the first day of school today, and I'm quickly sinking into my sophomore year. Hopefully the rest of this year goes as smoothly as this.**


	20. Chapter 20

Dean struggled to keep his mind set on the conversation before him. Sam nodded enthusiastically as Sonny explained to him what they had been talking about.

"When are the tests?" Sam asked.

Sonny shrugged, "All I've got to do is let them know, then take you in."

"Can we go now?" Sam asked. Sonny glanced at his watch,

"Let me talk to the school and see if they've got a slot open. Not a lot of work to do around here right now, so I don't see why not."

 _Bad, bad, very, very bad._

 _But it is only a little goofy test, nothing like Dad's physical fitness tests._

 _Plus, the only way I can go is up. I was already in the "special" kids classes._

 _But what if I don't? What if I fail? What if they move me down a grade? What they move me two?_

 _I haven't done much math in months..._

 _I'm going to fail._

 _I can't do this. Not today._

 _Nope. Not happening. Can't do it._

And with that, Dean's nerves snapped. He needed to run, to get away. He felt his face flush, but a blush quickly replaced it. His face was boiling. Or freezing. Or... Both, or something.

"I-I uh- I'm going back outside." Dean said, "If you don't need me that is..."

Sonny shook his head, "Nope, just got to call the school. Looks like the boys are coming in anyway. You're free."

"Thanks." Dean took off, jogging to the gravel road in front of the farm before speeding to a run, and finally a sprint, when he was out of sight of the house.

Dean ran.

* * *

His lungs burning and his feet numb, his eyes were paralyzed, unable to look at anything but the open road before him. Soon after the heat in his lungs faded, giving way only to the wind in his face. Still, he ran on, unwilling to lose the sensation even if he must run forever.

Ever so slowly, his body relaxed, losing the strain of stress he hadn't even known he'd been experiencing. His mind cleared, empty, except for the sound of his feet rapidly pounding on gravel. He passed a great deal of gorgeous scenery, but nary once did he stop to observe. His eyes were focused on the road before him. Nothing else mattered.

He never noticed the strength leaking from his body.

Dean ran, until his legs gave way beneath him and threw him to the ground, the sting of pebbles ripping through his palms and bloodying his knees. He lay there a moment, relishing the familiarity of the feeling. His old friend pain. He'd not seen much of him for a while. On blind impulse, Dean ground his hands into the gravel, altering the petty wound to something slightly more substantial. Something closer to what he missed from hunting.

He stood slowly not as avoid aggravating his wounds, but instead to make the aggravation last longer, to make it more painful. More familiar.

Dean looked around realizing that it was nearly dark, and that he was miles away from Sonny's. He couldn't move as quickly in the dark without greater risk of _seriously_ injuring himself. He didn't want to go back, but his need to run was weaker now, and bearable enough. Sam would worry about him.

So Dean walked, no energy or motivation carrying him any faster.

* * *

Sonny paced the porch, running a hand through his hair anxiously. Dean had been gone for six hours now, and it was dark. Sonny hadn't even asked where he'd been going, now he wished he had.

He was pretty sure the Dean hadn't run away, he was confident that the kid would never leave Sam behind. The more likely option was that Dean had gone for a walk and simply lost track of time and the distance he had traveled.

This knowledge didn't stop Sonny from worrying that Dean had had another 'episode' like the one he'd witnessed not long ago. What if Dean was just standing out there, staring into the distance? What if he was standing in the middle of a road?

Sonny waited another hour before deciding that he couldn't wait any longer and went to look for him, leaving Peter and Johnathan in charge of getting the younger kids to bed.

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked, his lower lip protruding slightly, displaying his worry.

"He went for a walk." Sonny said, slipping on his shoes and snagging his keys. He didn't want to worry the youngster any more than he had to.

"Is he coming back?" Sam asked, "He didn't leave me here, did he?"

"No, no, of course not, Sammy." Sonny said, "Dean would never do that to you. He loves you too much."

"Then where is he?"

"I'm going out to find him right now." Sonny said, "We'll be back in a flash."

"Let me go with you!" Sam said,, going to grab his shoes.

"No, no, no, you need to get to bed, kiddo." Sonny said, taking the shoes from Sam and pointing him up the hallway. "Go brush your teeth."

"But-"

"No buts." Sonny said, "I'll be back with Dean in no time."

"Okay." Sam pouted, "When you find Dean, tell him he's an idiot."

Sonny chuckled, "Okay, then. I'll see you first thing when you wake up, okay? Goodnight Sam."

"G'night Mr. Sonny."

Sonny waited until he heard Sam's footsteps trotting up the stairs, then left.

* * *

Only minutes into his drive, rain started coming down on Sonny in sheets. It only fulled Sonny's desperation to find Dean. He was out there with no coat and no shelter. Sonny drove for an hour before a solitary figure crossed into his headlights. Sonny nearly jumped out of the truck, ignoring the rain, and ran to the figure, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Dean! Are you alright, kiddo?! Do you have any idea what time it is?! You've been gone for ages, where have you been?!"

Dean shrunk away from Sonny, looking as though he were going to take of again.

"I-I'm sorry." Dean tripped over the words, nervousness lacing his voice. "I didn't mean to-"

Realizing his mistake, Sonny took a calmer tone, checking the boy over. Sonny felt Dean shudder, as he ran a hand through the boy's dripping wet hair.

"Hey, hey, it's alright." Sonny crushed Dean's still small shoulders with hug, before releasing him and glancing down at the torn fabric on his knees and his bloodied palms. "You alright?" Sonny asked holding him at arms length to observe him. "What happened here?"

"Oh... Uh... I fell." Dean said, staring down at his palms, examining them as though he wasn't sure they were his. He looked disoriented, confused by the events around him. He was pale, and for a reason Sonny couldn't discern, he acted light headed.

"Come on, let's get you in the car. We can patch you up there." Sonny took Dean's arm, and slowly led him to the passenger side of the truck.

Sonny glanced at Dean here and there as he drove. The way he was acting, Sonny knew the boy was exhausted. He had to be to make it this distance in this amount of time.

"How far did you end up going?" Sonny asked.

Dean showed signs of processing Sonny's words for a few seconds before responding.

"I don't know... Um..." Dean closed his eyes, drawing his head to the left and closer to his chest. He paused a moment before continuing. "Mr. Elks' farm, maybe?"

"Mr. Elks'?!" Sonny's eyebrows rose, "You ever thought about doing cross-country, kid?"

Dean didn't respond.

A few minutes of silence passed only punctuated by the hum of the truck's motor and the beating of rain on its windshield.

"Your brother was worried about you, you know." Sonny said, "Told me to tell you you're an idiot."

That drew the smallest of smiles from the boy's drawn face, but still, he didn't answer.

A few minutes passed, and Sonny noticed Dean's posture change, him leaning weakly on the door and window, almost as though he wished to sink into it.

"You alright, kiddo?" Sonny asked, "You don't look too good. Hope that rain's not made you catch cold."

Dean's lips parted to respond, but realizing he had nothing to say, the pounding of rain prevailed.

* * *

 _ **A/N: You've all waited awhile, but I hope this chapter's worth it. I'll dig a little deeper into Dean's psyche in the next chapter, and we'll get some cute and protective Sammy too.**_


	21. Chapter 21

No words were spoken for the rest of the ride.

The only interaction that occurred before entering the house was Sonny looping an arm around the boy's shoulder's and pulling him close, in a side hug like gesture. Sonny felt the boy's trembling, and loosened his grip, but the arm stayed there.

Things like this would take time, but not only did Dean have to learn that not all contact hurt, he also had to learn that some was positive as well. Sonny released him as they walked through the door.

"Why don't ya go take a shower and get warmed up, before you go to bed?" Sonny suggested, "It'll help ya sleep better."

Dean didn't really nod, just subconsciously processed the command, then did it.

Gosh, that boy scared Sonny at times.

* * *

Dean felt his body temperature slowly rising, and with it his semi-conscious thought, gradually turning to conscious, more rational thought.

Sonny was... good. Maybe. Seemed to be good... Acted good... Hm...

Dean shook himself back to reality when he realized he was fading off into the realm of thought again. Huh, something wasn't quite right. Wasn't usually this hard to stay on track... Huh. Dean couldn't bring himself to worry about it. He was more worried about what he was going to tell Sonny when he asked more questions. And he would.

Dean relished the warm water, but quickly shut the water off as soon as he realized he was doing so.

 _What am I thinking?_

Dean dried himself off. The sting of his scrapes came to his attention once again as he put clothes on. He didn't really think anything more about it than acknowledging that they existed. Just a simple " _Hm_. " of thought.

Without a specific destination in mind, he left the bathroom. His feet led him to the comfortable confines of an old sea green armchair, the back of which extended well above his head. It was a strange chair, not adhering to the decor of the rest of the house. Still, it held a familiarity to the boy, despite the lack of reasoning.

His body sank into the chair, his feet curling up beneath him. He felt small in this chair. If he scooted himself all the way to the back, you could only see a sliver of him from the kitchen. He was nearly invisible.

The silence was only broken by quietest of coughs occasionally elicited from his throat, sounding almost as thought he were just clearing his throat.

Sonny entered the room a few minutes later, sitting in the chair across from him, and sliding a warm mug across the coffee table.

"Figured you'd still be up." Sonny said, his face partially covered by the steaming cup of tea, just before he took a slow sip.

Dean snagged his mug from the table, and held it. He didn't speak.

The adrenaline from the run had been slowly leaking out of him ever since he'd stop running, leaving him utterly exhausted. Still, his eyes were alert, though maybe a little slower than usual. Not that he'd ever admit that to himself. It was undeniable however, that his blinks were increasing in length.

"All this been coming at you pretty fast, huh?" Sonny said, "Seems like it's been hitting you pretty hard."

Dean didn't speak, but his stomach rolled uncomfortably at the thought of school again, and he shifted positions in the chair, now curling up more than he had before. It was a more vulnerable position, Dean knew, but he was fairly certain that even if Sonny was some sort of monster out to get him, he wasn't going to do it now.

Dean was tired. He didn't want to fight, he didn't want to argue. He just wanted to be done. To just sleep, not because he was tired, but because he simply couldn't handle the reality he lived in.

So he stayed silent.

He cast his eyes down at the cup, letting them slide shut slowly.

"You alright?" Sonny asked.

* * *

"Always."

Dean answered almost before Sonny had finished speaking, his head immediately straightening to look Sonny in the eyes. But the eyes were dead. The prompt response was preconditioned.

"It's alright to not be, you know."

Dean shook his head, his posture slouching a little, as conscious thought returned to him.

"No, not for me."

Sonny debated his words long enough that the time to speak had passed, and the conversation had died. Dean remained seated, and silent, occasionally sipping his tea.

"Why?"

Dean looked up, the slightest hint of an amused smile on his face.

"Because I have to be ready." He answered.

"For what?"

"Anything."

"Why?"

Dean paused at the last question, but wasn't debating his words.

"So Sammy won't have to be."

Sonny didn't know how to answer that, so he gave only a gentle "Hmm." in response.

A few seconds of silence passed, before Sonny spoke.

"I spoke to the school counselors." Sonny said. He hated to bring the subject up so soon after all that had happened, but the boy needed to be aware of the timeline he had.

Dean looked up at Sonny but didn't respond.

"The only slot they have open is tomorrow morning." Sonny said, "You probably ought to get some sleep."

* * *

Dean walked into the bedroom and took his shoes off, setting them near the edge of the bed. He flattened himself out on the mattress, rolling over. He almost jumped when he saw Sam's awake and questioning eyes staring back at him.

"Why did you leave me?" Sam asked.

"Just had to think, Sammy."

"Sam."

Dean felt his breath catch in his throat, "What?"

"You left me and didn't tell me where you were going. And you didn't come back until Sonny made you. You're being a jerk." Sam declared, "Until you stop being mean, you have to call me Sam."

"Listen, Samm- Sam," Dean corrected himself after a pointed look from Sam, "It's just- I've kind of been-" Dean felt his frustrations seeping back into him.

"Doesn't matter." Dean sighed. "It's my fault, I'm sorry."

Sam nodded, a look of 'I guess that's good enough' on his face, in acceptance of his apology.

Dean closed his eyes to sleep, but it wasn't long before he felt the bed shift beneath him. A warm lump wormed its way down through the covers next to him.

"You still have to call me Sam." Sammy mumbled, as he snuggled into Dean's side.

Dean smirked, and wrapped an arm around his little brother.

 _He's getting too big for his own good,_ Dean thought.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Sorry for the long wait; I've been ultra busy, as usual. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'd love to hear back from you guys on how realistic to the characters their actions are. I just want to make sure I stay true to their characters.**_


	22. Chapter 22

"Up and at it!" Sonny called out as he knocked on the wall beside the boys beds.

Dean was apparently already awake, and just continued to stare at the ceiling for a moment before standing and approaching the doorway, a blank look covering his face.

"You're gonna do fine, son." Sonny said, softly squeezing Dean's shoulder. "Don't think about it. You'll just worry yourself more."

Dean glanced over at Sam, whose gentle snores could still be heard coming from the bed.

"Come on, Sam." Sonny said, as he rounded the bed. "Time to get moving."

Sam blearily opened his eyes and stared at Sonny for a moment before the words sunk into his still asleep brain. He crawled out from the bed and stood facing Dean for just a moment before walking straight past Dean and Sonny on his quest to acquire breakfast.

* * *

Breakfast and morning chores passed much too quickly for Dean's liking. The animals seemed all too eager to cooperate, as if they knew that their caretaker had somewhere to be early this morning.

"Keep an eye on things Peter, Johnathan." Sonny said, "Don't know how long it'll take." Sonny glanced at Sam and Dean, who were now standing in front of him.

"Let's load 'em up."

Dean and Sam both slid into the cab of the truck and clicked their seat belts into place as the engine's hum made its way to their ears. Sonny pulled out into the road, and thus began their trip.

Sammy was excited, blabbering on about how fun school was going to be; meanwhile, Dean was silent, just staring out the window. It wasn't all that long of a trip, just 15 or 20 minute to the testing location. Sonny got them both checked in and ready to go. The test was quite long, and was on a computer. It would take awhile, so Sonny just waited in the other room as the boys took the test.

* * *

Sam tapped away at his computer, scanning the question, then quickly selecting the right answer. His doing all the research when they hunted really came in handy with this, because researching gave him a lot of practice scanning through a page and isolating the necessary information, while skipping over the rest. He could do it pretty quick now.

So far, Sam had yet to see a question he hadn't known, but he could tell it was going to get harder soon.

* * *

Dean stared at the screen, rubbing his eyes. What is this? Math with... letters?

 _Algebra,_ Dean's mind supplied.

 _Dad always told me most of it was useless... I never learned it..._ _I thought that was a few grades above my level? Am I supposed to know it by now? The letters stand for a mystery number, right?_

Dean stared at it a little longer.

 _Hmm... I'll just guess._

Dean chose a random bubble and clicked it. There were only four options, he had a 25% chance of getting it right. That was approximately his odds of getting the other questions right, even if he did try to work them.

Another despicable math problem came up. The infamous **_word problem._** These never made sense. Who in the world would buy 230 watermelons, and why would the same person buy 796 carrot sticks?

 _Vegetables don't even taste that good, not usually anyway._

Still, Dean at least attempted to work the problem out in his mind. He eventually came to an estimated range that fit one of the answers.

Dean continued this strategy, again and again, problem after problem. Dean wished there was a progress bar on the screen somewhere.

* * *

Sam breezed through math, then language arts, then science, and then started on the essay. He had a pretty good writing prompt, well, a simple one at least. It was only a five paragraph essay too. "Imagine you could make the sky a different color. What color would you make it, and why?" His fingers flew, words spilling from his mind in jumbles that he quickly rearranged and edited. Sam reread his essay, glancing at the word count and any other parameters it had to meet. Well, it met all of them, so he couldn't get a bad score, could he?

 _Meh, good enough._

Sam clicked submit and was happy to find that that was the end of the test.

 _Done. I probably could have done better, but that was still pretty easy._

A teacher escorted Sam back out to the hallway, where Sonny was waiting.

"How do you think you did, bud?" Sonny asked, gesturing for Sam to sit beside him.

"Pretty good, I think." Sam plopped onto the couch. "There weren't very many that I didn't know."

"Awesome." Sonny shifted to look at the boy more directly. "How do you think your brother's doing?"

"I don't know, he's kinda hard to read." Sam admitted, " I was watching him though."

"Hm..."

* * *

 _I'm doing so bad... So so bad... I'm gonna fail, I'm going to have to start back at kindergarten- I'm never gonna pass high school. It'd be way easier to just drop out, take my GED, if I can pass it. At least it'd stop me from going to this wretched place... Who am I kidding!? I need this. I need to pass. I need to pass well. I need to be able to make it in the world if I ever need to. What If I need to get a job to take care of Sam? I've got to have some sort of diploma for that. GED rarely looks that good on a resume..._

Dean returned his attention to the screen, just as his screen went blank. Big bold letters appeared.

 **TIMED OUT**

"Not again!" Dean groaned. That was the fifth question he hadn't had enough time to answer.

 _Alright, alright, just have to stay focused._

Dean welcomed the next question into his mind, sizing it up as it waltzed through his eyes. It was a tough one. But not impossible.

This language arts stuff, he wasn't too bad at it, if only he could pay attention long enough. It was mostly just scanning a few paragraphs, guessing on the meaning of words he didn't know, then answering a question about it. It should have been easy. It wasn't.

Dean's brain sifted through the words, only to find that, once he was done reading, he'd already forgotten what was at the top of the page. Dean read the passage again. Then the question. What was that answer again?

The time flashed red, warning him of the quickly approaching "timed out." Dean knew he wouldn't get the answer in time, so he just clicked the one that looked the closest.

"I'm going to fail." Dean stated.

After realizing that he said his thoughts aloud, he quickly glanced around the room.

 _Good, Sam's already done._

* * *

Sonny paced back and forth in the hallway outside the testing room. Dean was fine, wasn't he? It'd only been a couple of hours, the test should take that long, shouldn't it? Yeah, yeah, Sam just got done early. That's what was going on.

"Sonny?"

Sonny's thoughts were drawn away from Dean and to the other boy.

"Yeah, Sam?"

"What's taking Dean so long?"

Sonny hesitated. "I don't know, kid." He said, "Maybe he's just stuck on a problem."

The two stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment longer.

"You know what," Sonny said, "how about I call Peter and have him and Johnathan come here and take you back to the house, sound good? That way you don't have to wait as long."

* * *

 _Well... I don't want to keep waiting, it's boring, and Dean did tell me to do what Sonny says... But we don't trust Peter though. But Johnathan's with him, so I should be safe right? Yeah. Johnathan's safe._

"I guess so." Sam said.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Sorry, it's been awhile. Life happened. Anyway, I'll deal a little more with Dean in the next chapter, then we'll follow Sam for a bit.**_


	23. Chapter 23

Peter and Johnathan had picked up Sam almost half an hour ago, and Dean was still testing. Sonny's anxiety grew by the second. He paced, back and forth, back and forth.

 _What could possibly be taking Dean so long?_

Finally, Sonny heard the doors to the testing room open and glanced up to see Dean walking out.

"Hey, buddy." Sonny said, "How'd you do?"

"Okay, I think." Dean said. His voice was strained, as though he were holding something back, but Sonny didn't mention it.

"Are you alright? Were there any problems?" Sonny asked, "You were back there a long time."

"No sir, everything went fine." Once again, Dean's tone was strained.

"Alright, that's good." Sonny said, "I'm ready to go, are you ready to go? Did they mention any more paper work?"

Dean just shook his head.

"Let's skedaddle." Sonny put a hand on the boy's shoulder and walked him out of the testing center. Dean was _shaking,_ not enough to be visually noticeable, but Sonny felt the quiver beneath his finger tips.

"Relax, it's over bud. It'll be alright." Sonny said, "There's nothing you can do to change it now. Deep breaths."

* * *

Dean tried to obey, he really did, but- _he couldn't breathe_. He couldn't think, he could barely walk. His fingertips tingled with cold, and his head rushed with heat. His mind spun, repeating things over and over, words echoing with no end. What words though? He couldn't find them. What words were they? Dean didn't recognize- Sonny was talking to him and he could hear himself responding, but it really didn't feel real. His mind was turned more internally.

 _Keep it together. Keep it together. There's no use in upsetting Sonny with how you did now. You'll be punished enough later. It's alright, it's alright. Dad can't stay away forever, there's enough routes for Sammy and I to escape if we need to. This can't go that bad. Worst that could happen is Sonny could get angry and Sam and I would run away. Worst that could happen. That's the worst that could happen._

Then suddenly, the words were gone, replaced once again with useless metal mumbling that even he couldn't make out. It went _faster_ and _faster_ , and _louder_ and _louder_ and _lou **der** **and louder**_ **...**

And then he broke.

* * *

"Dean?" Sonny asked. Dean's eyes pooled with tears, and then they streamed, streamed down his face and off of it, falling into little droplets that splattered on the ground. Despite all this his disposition was neutral and his voice unused.

Sonny stopped and knelt to the boy's level.

"Talk to me Dean. Tell me what's wrong." Sonny said. Dean's mouth opened, but no words came out.

"Come on." Sonny prompted. Dean's lips pressed together, the only sign of emotion present on his face, other than the tears that fell by the buckets now.

" _I didn't know it,"_ He whispered, _"Any of it."_

The whisper barely reached Sonny's ears.

"Test are meant to be hard." Sonny said, "I bet you got a whole lot more right than you thought. Plus, even if you didn't, we still've got somewhere to work off of."

Dean didn't answer, choosing instead to focus on not hyperventilating.

"Dean, you've got to calm down bud." Sonny said, gently rubbing the boy's back. "There's nothing wrong with being a little behind. All that means is that you got into a bad situation and kept learning anyway, no matter how slow the going."

Dean shook his head briskly, not finding the words to suit his meaning. It was at that time that the bottom fell out of the sky. Sheets of rain began hammering the ground. Within seconds, there wasn't a dry spot on the pavement. Sonny pulled the boy closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he quickly ushered the two of them to the car more quickly.

* * *

Dean's mind lit up as though lightening had struck it.

* * *

Dean jerked back away from Sonny, scrambling back onto the sidewalk, and stumbling in the process. He fell, water soaking through his clothes just as quickly as thoughts drowned his mind.

There was screaming over and over and over, overlapping, undertones, overtones, loud, quiet, miles away at first, but now it was right in his ear too. Over and over and over... _Was that a radio now? A scream radio? Maybe... No?_ _My scream? Not my scream? Do I hear it? Is it there? TV static. Why's that here? Where is here? It's loud, sooo loud. Stop. What's that? Car? Cars? A horn. There's a horn, lots of horns and they're honking, honking all at once. Hundreds of horns. Thousands. There's the screams again, and sirens. Cop, maybe? Firetruck? Why? The ground is rough. What is the ground? The sky? It's rough too. Gravelly, wait- I'm spinning, why? Rolling on the ground, over and over, and faster and over and- Head hurts. Chest too, why? It's inside, not like a cut. It's hot too. Really hot, no cold, but hot too. Boom. Exploding. I'm exploding. I must be exploding. But it's squeezes though, so imploding? Loud again, hurts my ears, head... make it stop. No, really, stop. No, make it stop! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!_

The world came back in a rush, and suddenly he was shivering, shivering so hard. There was weight around him. Where did it come from?

 _Agh, the screams were back. Plug ears. Plug ears. Better, no, kind of better. Better-ish. O-Open eyes. That's important. Need to see._

Slowly, his clenched eyes pealed open.

* * *

Sonny panicked. He had no idea what to do... What if Dean went back into that thing he did earlier? Giving no care to his own clothes, he sat in the water next to where Dean had fallen, and was now sitting, knees pulled up, head down, hands over his ears, pressing so tightly that Sonny worried he'd pop his head off. If anyone could do it, Dean could.

He didn't know what to do. So he just hugged him, held him, even as Dean's breaths came out in gasps and he clawed at his ears so hard that his skin pealed. He held him, even as the sky sent a torrential downpour so thick that he could hardly see three feet ahead.

And then it stopped. Dean's breath returned, and Sonny felt him relaxing, shifting in his grip, unlike the horror wracked shivers he had felt before.

"S-Sonny?" Dean's eyes opened, immediately scanning the area, taking in the world that he had missed for too many mind-shattering moments before.

"Oh thank God. Thank God." Sonny squeezed Dean tighter.

" _Sonny_?" The word held a little urgency, and Dean's body rebelled from the hug at first, before seeing the difference between the rain and Sonny's tears of fear, then relief. Slowly, hesitantly, Dean sunk into the hug, realizing Sonny's need for it.

"You scare me so much kiddo." Sonny said.

* * *

And that's when Dean knew he was different. He could still turn out to be some sort of supernatural creature, but he was different, different than Dad.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I AM SOOOOOO Sorry for taking so long to update. Life got in the way, and I simply didn't have the energy to write. Hopefully I'll be updating a little faster now. Hopefully.**_


	24. Chapter 24

"What do ya say we head to the car now?"

Dean didn't answer, but Sonny slowly ushered him towards the car, one arm gently wrapped around his shoulders. Dean shivered beneath his arm, and slowly but surely calmed down.

"Better?" Sonny asked. Dean nodded.

"All good now."

"Good, good." Sonny turned his eyes back on the road ahead of him. "What do you say we pick up some ice cream on the way back? You got any favorites?"

Dean nodded his head, "Sammy likes birthday cake."

"What do you like?"

Silence.

"It's alright, it's alright." Sonny said, "We'll figure it out."

* * *

For simplicity's sake, Sonny picked up a gallon of birthday cake ice cream at the store. He'd help Dean figure out what he likes later.

* * *

After supper and the ice cream were consumed and a movie was watched, the unorthodox family headed to bed.

The next morning went smoothly. Breakfast and chores went on without a hitch, leaving much of the day for play on the boys part, and relaxation on Sonny's.

While Sam endeavored to finish the book shelf, Dean decided it was time to explore the bit of woods behind the house. After alerting Sam to his destination, Dean set off. As it turned out, the woods went deeper than he had thought.

* * *

 _*Trigger Warning*_

* * *

Dean stopped for a few minutes to admire a crystal clear creek that he had found while following through a small valley. It was an unusual find for an area known for muddy rivers. Inspecting it a little further, and giving it a taste, Dean decided it was probably good for drinking, though he dare not drink much just in case. He couldn't see the creek's source after all, and even clean looking water could be contaminated.

Dean bent down to cup some water in his hands and drank. After taking his fill, he shook his hands to rid them of the water. As he wiped his hands on his shirt, his eyes caught on the the thin white line on his left palm, that went diagonally from the left side of his index finger all the way down to the right side, where his palm met his wrist. It was all white now. No longer was there any pink to be seen, reminding Dean of just how long it'd been since he'd seen his father. Since he'd hunted anything. Dean stared at that line for a few moments, then slowly took out a pocket knife he'd nicked from the inside of Sonny's couch. Apparently either Sonny or one of his boys had lost it at some point.

The blade was old, but still in good condition, and Dean couldn't help but sigh at the familiarity of the cold metal in his hands.

With no hesitation, he drug the blade across his hand, tracing the thin white line as though it were a stencil. He'd done it right, just as John had taught him. Just barely deep enough to bleed.

Dean relished the feeling, his palm slick with blood, and his drew his mind back to better times. Or simpler times, at least.

There were hunts, on occasion, that were pretty straight forwards. Just salt and burns. Grab 'em and slab 'ems. Those seemed to be all too rare now days. The more Dad knew about what had happened to his wife, the more complex the hunts got. The more dangerous they got. Suddenly, it wasn't just ghosts they were hunting, it was a whole other kit and caboodle. Suddenly there, were vampires, wendigos, and who knows what all else. Werewolves didn't seem to be a thing though, at least not yet. Thank goodness, not yet.

Thoughts drained out of Dean's mind, as though there had been a plug in it. Dean just let himself live in those thoughts for awhile. He was safe enough in this forest, he thought, glancing around. He had some salt in his pocket, and the pocket knife provided him as much protection as he could obscurely have. And so, he let his mind wander.

Sam was doing good. He got along with most of the other boys pretty well. He and Jude fought a bit, and Peter was of course a jerk, but that was to be expected. All things considered though, he was doing alright with this apple pie life. At least for now.

Dean wondered how his Dad was doing. When was he going to come get them? If it was soon, Dean still didn't want Sammy getting too attached to this life. They did have to go back to their own, after all. Though in the meantime, Sammy was getting a chance to experience what it was like to be fairly normal, and Dean was happy for him.

Man, seeing the kid's face light up like Christmas lights when he saw that shelf of books, well, it was like Christmas for Dean too. (Only with a little more concern when the shelf fell on the kid.)

It was amazing how fast the little speed-reader soaked up information. Dean wished he shared Sammy's aptitude and interest for learning, but as far as he was concerned, there were better things he could do with his time. Not now though, not really.

Truth be told, Dean wasn't sure what to do with himself. Books were babysitting Sam just fine, he wasn't leaving the house that much, and the house was warded, so Sam was safe. They weren't on any case, so there was no research to be done.

Dean wasn't yet entirely convinced that Sonny wasn't some sort of supernatural creature, but he had pretty well come to the conclusion that even if he was, he wasn't ill meaning one, and therefore wasn't really a threat. Something to keep an eye on, yes, but not a threat per say.

Dean's attention was brought back to his hand as he noticed the blood that had pooled in his hand had started to run off and drip onto the forest floor. For lack of a better thing to do, Dean rotated his hand and let the blood drip into the stream.

* * *

Lunch was ready, and Sonny had successfully located all the boys but Sam and Dean. Making a quick guess, which turned out correct, Sonny found Sam sitting in his room, reading a book.

"Lunch is ready."

" 'kay." Sam answered, barely glancing up from his book as he slid into a standing position, and began to follow Sonny down the stairs, while still keeping the book squarely in front of his eyes.

"Any clue where your brother is?" Sonny asked, chuckling at the young book worm.

"He said he was exploring the woods."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Short chapter and it's been a LONG time. Yeah, I know. Sorry. I guess you'll just have to deal with my grueling slowness. Believe it or not, I have been thinking about this story, I've just been debating which direction I want to take it first. I've got a better idea of what I want to do now, so I hope you guys like it. What Dean did isn't what it immediately looks like though. Well, I mean, it is, technically, but it's not. You'll see.**_


	25. Chapter 25

_*trigger warning*_

* * *

Dean stared at the blood drizzling from his hand, thinking of the first time John had taught Sam to do so. While the action was partially to allow the boys to prove that they were indeed themselves and not a monster, there was another meaning, and layer behind it.

Sam, relatively new to the process, always had trouble with the part of the job, whereas Dean excelled. Sam had difficulty convincing himself to push the blade hard enough to draw blood. His hand slackened at the anticipation of pain, whereas Dean's was strengthened.

But Sam wasn't there. Not right now.

All Dean had to think about now, was the growing realization in the back of his mind that he was going to have to hide this from Sonny somehow. He was pretty sure most people didn't do this. Dean put a sturdy pressure to the slit in his hand, biting his tongue as he did so. He'd be missed soon, he realized, and he couldn't very well go running back with blood dripping off his hand.

Hearing the rustle of leaves near by, Dean jumped to his feet and scanned his surroundings. Unfortunately, he saved the most important area for last.

"Dean?"

And... Busted.

* * *

Dean got past the deer in headlights feeling just in time for his mind to shuffle through a number of lists of excuses.

 _Fell and got hurt? Nope, not going to work. Too clean a line for that. I'm getting too good at it._

 _Messing around with the pocket knife, and it slipped? Maybe. That might work._

 _But... I'm surrounded by rocks, not twigs. There's nothing I could have been whittling or anything._

 _And I couldn't have just been messing with the knife itself, because Sonny knows I know better than to do that._

After filtering through several more excuses, Dean realized he didn't really have a believable one, and nor did he have time to come up with anything. He would simply have to tell some semblance of the truth. The truth with a few parts left out, but still, the truth.

"Dean." Sonny's word had no tone really, he didn't seem surprised, or confused, or even angry really. It was just kind of... Sad, maybe? And not even officially that.

Sonny set the Dean's lunch to the side, and took the paper towels meant for a napkin, and for cleaning his hands off. He applied soft but steady pressure to Dean's hand. Then he asked one simple question.

"Why?"

* * *

"Because he told me to."

"Who? Who told you to?" Sonny asked.

"Dad. He makes me do this to train myself. To serve as a reminder." Dean answered.

"A reminder of what?" Sonny was incredulous.

"That I am human, and I bleed." Dean answered, "That others' lives are worth just as much and more than my own. It's a symbol of sacrifice. If I can cut my hand when there is no need, I will have no difficulty in putting myself forward to take pain for others when there is a need."

"Dean, in what situation would you need to take pain for others?" Sonny asked, "What situation could you be in where that could even possibly be called for?"

Dean just shrugged a bit. "I guess Dad just wants me ready for everything."

Sonny sighed and lifted the makeshift bandage, hoping the bleeding had stopped. Thankfully it had. Sonny took that time to inspect the damage. It wasn't a deep cut, nor was it particularly wide. It hadn't really bled enough that he knew of, to be worrying physical health wise.

"I-" Dean hesitated, not sure where he was going with this, nor why he was telling Sonny more than he had intended. "I guess it reminds me of Dad. Reminds me he's going to come back, eventually. Because he'd do that with us, and it was sort of like his version of saying 'I'm here for you.' I- I mean- I know it doesn't make much sense, but... It does to me."

Sonny contemplated Dean's words, as well as his sincerity.

"Is that where Sam's scar came from?" he asked, "It's in the same spot."

Dean seemed a little surprised, but nodded, "He doesn't like it though. He doesn't understand what it means." Dean said, "Not completely anyway."

It was silent for a few moments.

"You know I worry about you, right?" Sonny asked.

"Yes, Sir." Dean bit his lip.

"Do you understand why?"

"I think so."

"Then you know you can't keep doing this, Dean." Sonny said. "What if the knife slipped and it went too deep?"

"But it didn't." Dean protested.

"But what if it had?" Sonny said, "What if you bled out before I could get here?" Sonny looked around. "You don't seem to have had a plan for stopping the bleeding. Which tells me you hadn't really planned this, right?"

At least the boy had the good grace to look sheepish.

Sonny sighed. "Don't worry about me taking the pocket knife, you can keep it. You'd find something else anyway." He said. "And Dean, I know I can't stop you from doing this. I just want you to know that you don't have to hide it. Not from me. Every time you do that, you come find me, and we'll get you fixed up, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"But don't you dare mistake this for me saying I'm alright with it." Sonny said. "I'm not. I just know these things take time, and I want to make sure you have enough of it."

"I'm fine, sir, really."

"Then just make sure you stay that way."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Like I said, it's not exactly what you think. Just for those of who are worried, this will not be a main story line. There's more to Dean's life than just that. We'll be looking at some new and fun stuff soon. Something that will lighten the tone a little bit.**_


	26. Chapter 26

Sonny carefully inspected the results of the testing. Usually results didn't come this quickly, but with it being so close to the school year beginning, they had put a rush on it. Sam had done well above average. All advanced classes recommended, except for math. He was just slightly above average there, probably a straight B student in that subject. No surprise there. Dean, however, had returned with an average score in a completely average manner. His math and history scores were significantly lower than average for his grade level. In fact... His knowledge level was about at Sam's. He knew the material, confidently, up to Sam's grade level.

 _Because helping Sam with his school work was his primary reason for doing it. It makes sense he never would have put in much effort for his own work, but he had to learn Sam's just in case he needed help._

That said, Dean's science and language arts skills were considerably above average, which balanced out his overall score. He would be allowed to go into the correct grade for his age, thankfully, but there'd be a lot he needed to work on.

* * *

 _APPROVED CORE CLASSES for_ **DEAN WINCHESTER** :

 **Remedial math III**

 **Remedial American History**

 **Advanced Language Arts I**

 **Advanced Physical Science**

* * *

This didn't quite add up to Sonny. If Dean could do so well in science and language arts, Sonny was confident that Dean could do just fine in normal classes if he had someone help him get back up to speed.

Just having someone there who actually cared if he got his homework done would make a difference, let alone someone who would offer to help.

Well, they were going to find out. Sonny was thankful "guardians" could override recommended classes. It's saved a lot of his boys from being behind before.

Plus, if Dean really couldn't do the work, it would always be easier to go a step down than a step up.

* * *

Sam was chilling out on the front porch with a book when Sonny came out with a packet of papers in his hand. Sonny tossed Sam's papers to him.

"All advanced." Sam said, after looking at the papers.

"Except math. Just normal math." Sonny nodded.

"Yeah, Deany- I mean, Dean," Sam corrected himself, "usually has to help me with that. Speaking of which, how'd he do?"

"He can tell you if he wants." Sonny said.

"Was it that bad?" Sam asked, "I promise, he's smarter than the tests make him seem. He helps me with my school work all the time and- If you'll just give him a chance-"

"I know, Sam." Sonny agreed, " You're preaching to the choir. And no, it's not that bad, it's pretty good actually, all things considered."

* * *

Dean sat in the tall backed chair again, feet curled underneath him, with a book in his lap. Norse mythology had always been particularly interesting to him, and this book was quite a good one.

Glancing over at the sound of foot steps, Dean watched as Sonny came in, and set himself down across from him with a sigh. Dean felt his palms grow sweaty, and his heart rate pick up.

 _No, not now. Not yet... Please..._

"So... Results came back." Sonny said.

Dean lowered his feet to the floor though his mind screamed at him to simply curl back into the chair and disappear.

* * *

He looked so nervous sitting there, Sonny thought. Not wanting to further the suspense, Sonny handed him the results, which Dean opened with shaking hands.

He glanced up at Sonny with surprise and confusion.

"But-"

"You did pretty good, kid." Sonny said, "Those math results are nothing we can't work on. And as for the history, we can get you caught up in no time. I know it says you should be in remedial math and history, but I want you to try regular classes first. Sound good?"

"But what if I can't keep up?" Dean asked.

"Then you ask Johnathan for help, and if he can't help you, you ask me. If I can't help you, we'll just talk to your teachers about some tutoring."

Sonny hoped Dean understood his sincerity, "I will never let you fall behind, kiddo. Not if there's something I can do about it. You understand?"

Dean watched Sonny for a moment, but then nodded.

"Now that we're through all that," Sonny said, "Let's talk about electives!"

* * *

 _ **A/N: Wow, I've been gone awhile, huh? That's kind of mean. To leave you on a semi-cliffhanger like that and then to just disappear off the face of the earth like that? Wow. To top it all off, when I finally come back, I give you a ridiculously short chapter. I am an evil human being. Well, I guess that's what school does to you. Hopefully my writing muse will come back for visits a little more often now than before...**_


	27. Chapter 27

"You have to have at least one fine art credit to graduate . Do you want to take that this year or wait?

"Might as well get it over with." Dean sighed, "What are my options?"

"They have art appreciation, art, orchestra/band, or music appreciation."

"So basically I get to look at art, make art, make music, or listen to music?" Dean flipped through the course list, "Are you sure there aren't anymore options?"

"Nope, that's it." Sonny said, "You've got to pick one."

"Which is easiest?"

"Well, not band, the others are probably equally easy though." Sonny determined. Upon seeing Dean stare apathetically at the paper, he continued, "Art might do you some good, at least you wouldn't have trouble with falling asleep."

"Art it is, then." Dean decided, "What's next?"

"Two more electives."

"Can't you just choose?" Dean asked, "It's not like we're going to be here forever. It doesn't even matter that much."

"Dean-" Sonny hesitated upon turning to look at him.

"I know, I know." Dean briskly ran both hands through his hair, coming to rest near his ears. "I just- crap- I can't- Um-"

"You don't have to do this just yet Dean-o." Sonny said, "I'm not going to push you into something you're not ready for."

"I know," Dean said, "But Sammy-"

"Will be just fine." Sonny assured him, "He's a smart kid, he can handle himself. And even if not, you'll be here as soon as he gets home."

"I know." Dean nodded, "I know he is."

Sonny watched Dean for a moment, as he hesitantly returned to flipping through the course list.

"What's this?" Dean asked.

Sonny turned his attention to the paper, squinting, before pulling down his reading glasses from his forehead.

"Looks like... JROTC. It's a military thing, decent program." Sonny explained, "I've had a couple boys run through it, and they were all changed for the better."

"Dad used to be a marine." Dean said, reading further into the description of the course.

"Sounds like it would suit you well then." Sonny said, "I think this unit is army JROTC though; there aren't many marine units. Sound like something you'd like to try?"

Dean hesitated, but then nodded.

"Alright that just leaves one left." Sonny scanned the list. "Why don't you tackle personal finance and health? Those are a semester each, so you could get them both this year."

"Sounds good to me. We done now?"

"You've just got to decide when you want to start." Sonny said.

Dean slumped in his chair.

"We could give it a bit, do the work here while you adjust. We could take it slow, stick you in 1 class the first day, 2 the first week, and so on, just keep adding classes 'til you're going full time." Sonny said, "Or you could just start. Whatever you're ready for Dean."

"I want to just do it."

"You sure?"

Dean nodded.

"Alright, I'll make the call."

* * *

"What did Sammy pick?" Dean asked.

"Let's see... looks like in 5th grade you only get to pick two electives. He told me earlier he wanted spanish and orchestra."

"Orchestra?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"It's what the kid wanted, so it's what the kid will get." Sonny shrugged.

 _This man and me might one day get along, if he keeps this up._ Dean thought.

"Hm. You might just stand a chance of surviving the Winchester regime."

* * *

"Well, I wasn't planning on dying, if that's the alternative."

Sonny was once again reminded just how strange his boys are.

 _What? Was he previously plotting my murder, and now he's decided to keep me alive? A joke, I hope._

"Keep hoping." Sammy sauntered in, momentarily catching Sonny's eye.

 _Almost like the little booger can read minds._

Sam just looked up and smiled at him, before scurrying out of the room to the yard.

"Okay... Lunch?"

"It's 10:00am, Sonny."

"Second breakfast?"

"You really like cooking, don't you?"

Sam poked his head back through the door.

"Not as much as he hates awkward conversations."

Sonny rolled his eyes, and Sam grinned.

* * *

"Alright, let's go, let's go, let's go!" Sonny said, "Everyone's got their backpack, schedule, and a lunch?"

"Yessir." Sammy scurried out the door about as fast as his legs could carry him.

Dean rushed forward and snagged Sammy by the collar.

"Dean stop it!"

"Sammy, where's your lunch?"

"It's..." Sam hesitated, and opened his new backpack.

Sonny then proceeded to dangle a sandwich in front of Sam's face.

"In Sonny's hand." Sam had the grace to give a sheepish smile before grabbing the plastic baggie and shoving it into his back pack. He then continued to rush out the door.

"The kid would forget his head if it weren't attached to him." Sonny chuckled, "Awfully excitable little fellow, isn't he?"

"You don't know the half of it." Dean smirked, then his face sombered. "Thank you for this. He hasn't been this happy in a long time."

"I'm glad to have you boys with me." Sonny smiled, "Have a good day at school."

Dean nodded, then took off towards the bus stop with the rest of the boys. It was quarter mile away, and he'd started off a little later than the other boys, so he jogged off in pursuit, quickly overtaking Sammy.

"Got to get faster, Sammy." Dean called out behind him, smirking.

Sam squinched his nose up.

"You need to get slower." He said.

"There's your bus." Dean said, "Be good. I looked at a map, your school's about a half a mile away from mine. You need me, I can be there in less than 3 minutes."

"And I can be to your school in 4." Sammy said.

"Alright. Go."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Tada! I actually do write on occasion. This was written in three sentence long pieces over the course of several weeks. Anyway, Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year! (I might get another chapter out near the New Year). Maybe. Hopefully._**


End file.
